


We Only Part to Meet Again

by AbhorrentGodliness, Gaqalesqua



Series: Collabs [6]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Banter, Begging, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Gentle Kissing, Grief/Mourning, Lap Sex, Loss of Virginity, Missionary Position, Multiple Orgasms, Post-Coital Cuddling, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wakes & Funerals, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22848955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbhorrentGodliness/pseuds/AbhorrentGodliness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: Ms. Nora Barker was arranged to marry Lord Edward Maxson, but when her groom doesn’t survive a night of drinking, she isn’t sure what her future holds.
Relationships: Arthur Maxson/Female Sole Survivor, Arthur Maxson/Sole Survivor
Series: Collabs [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/883005
Comments: 78
Kudos: 147





	1. Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> Title of fic is from a John Gay poem.

The crack of wooden swords rang across the open yard, dust kicking up around Nora’s feet as she dealt a quick flurry of blows to her opponent. She darted back as he swung forward, parrying his swing and jabbing the blunt end of the wood against his arm. 

“Fuck!” he yelped, rubbing at the spot. It was probably going to bruise. 

Nora grinned. “And you said I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with my mind on the wedding.”

Barney shot her a grim smile. “And that’s me corrected, eh? Hope your father doesn’t need a hand with any heavy lifting this afternoon, or he’ll be down a man.”

She laughed. “You know you’ll be there as a guest. No heavy lifting required. You can just sit there and enjoy the food and the wine and the company.”

Barney’s hand rested on the place she’d jabbed him. “That’s if our bride _shows up_ at all.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone think I’m going to run?”

He swung the sword. “Because it’s an arranged marriage. And you didn’t seem interested.”

Nora snorted, and slipped her practise blade through her belt loop. “Because everyone knows that Edward is the town drunk and he’s probably slept with half the women there. If not for the fact that he’s half-decent as a person I wouldn’t have agreed to this at all.”

Barney’s eyes were sympathetic. “I think your father would let you back out if you changed your mind before the ceremony.”

Nora shrugged. “I could have ended up much worse off, don’t you think?”

Barney’s brows rose. “Your father would never let a worse man near you and you know it.”

“You’re not wrong,” Nora agreed. 

The older man grinned. “Course I’m not wrong. I didn’t get to my age by making bad decisions and being wrong, did I?”

“You’ve made plenty of bad decisions and you know it,” Nora reminded him. 

“I’ve been a pinnacle of wisdom!” Barney protested. 

The sound of approaching horses cut off any response Nora had been thinking of, and the two of them looked towards the gate to see a small group riding through. Nora’s father led them, and at the sight of him, her brows furrowed. 

“Father,” she said, as they stopped in front of her. 

His grey brows were furrowed, and he gazed at her in concern. “Nora, are you all right?”

She nodded. “I- yes. Why wouldn’t I…”

Theodore sighed. “Edward was found floating down the river very early this morning.”

Her eyes widened. Edward Maxson had never been the _pinnacle_ of a good human being, but she’d grown up with him and he’d been decent enough that she knew her life would be comfortable and she would never be in danger from him, even if they never fell in love. But this… “That’s awful,” she whispered. “They couldn’t save him?”

Her father shook his head. “He was cold and blue. There was nothing to do.”

She swallowed. “What a waste. How is- how is Lord Maxson?” 

Theodore gestured for her to come over, and as Nora approached, one of the men got off his horse and held the reins out to her as Theo got back on his own mount. “Not well. We’re going to see him immediately. You need to come with us.”

“Where did they find him?” Nora asked, climbing into the saddle.

Theo turned the horse around and began riding out of the gate. “Tangled in the old willows. He was out drinking and got separated from his party. When they realised he was missing they ran out to look for him, but…”

“That’s terrible,” she murmured. “I can’t believe it. He was only a little older than me.” 

“He was never as concerned about his wellbeing as he should have,” Theodore muttered.

Nora bit her lip. “Father, about the wedding…”

“That’s a question for Jonathan,” Theodore replied. “He hasn’t told me to call it off yet.”

Nora’s brow furrowed. Her groom was dead. What was Jonathan going to do if not call it off?

══════════════════

The manor was bustling with activity as they approached, a confusing mixture of wedding preparations and funeral arrangements that left the servants looking dazed. A few of them watched her as she and her father rode into the courtyard, and Nora wondered what they were thinking, slipping off her horse. 

She’d been to this house hundreds of times as a child to play, but it felt very different now, knowing it might still become her home. Though _how_ that was possible, she didn’t know. But as they approached Jonathan’s study, they could hear voices that fell silent when Theodore rapped on the dark wooden door that led in.

“Enter,” Jonathan’s gruff voice called, and they did. 

Jonathan’s eyes were red and his face was puffy, and Nora could see as they approached that several sheets of paper lying on the desk in front of him were dotted and wrinkled with tears. 

“Ah, Nora,” the lord began. “I see you’re in good health.”

“I’m sorry about Edward,” she said. 

He swallowed. “Yes,” he looked away, “I’m sure you are. I know this marriage was arranged, and you two weren’t lovers by any means, but I did think it would have worked out well between you two. It…” His eyes glimmered. “It… cannot be helped. My son made a mistake.” He sighed. “And he paid for it with his life. Thus, he isn’t here today to join with you.” He straightened up. “However, do you still wish to continue with the wedding?”

Nora bit her lip. “I don’t really see… _how…_ when I don’t have a groom.”

Jonathan cleared his throat, and Nora jerked towards her father in shock as a man appeared beside him, one who had been stood out of view behind a large cabinet on their left. As the light hit his face, Nora saw the scar first, and then the rest of him, and immediately she knew who it was. 

“Arthur,” she breathed, linking her fingers together, suddenly fully aware of the dirt and dust covering her clothes from her sparring session. 

He had _grown,_ shooting up far above her, and his whole body had _thickened._ She could see the muscle straining at his shirt. Heat flushed her cheeks and she tried not to stare. Arthur had always been the one doing the reading whilst she sparred with Edward and Barney, preferring to stay inside and sit there for hours with piles of books. It wasn’t that he hadn’t joined in at times - swimming, sometimes, climbing trees - but he’d never struck her as the kind who stayed outdoors. And then he had gone off to join the army, and Nora supposed that was where… _all this_ had happened to him. 

“He returned home from his posting to attend his brother’s wedding, but,” Jonathan’s eyes dropped to the tearstained paper, “that was not to be.” The older man’s eyes met hers. “I have asked him if he would take Edward’s place, and he has agreed, so long as you do.”

Nora looked at Arthur’s face, not quite meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to,” she assured him. “This isn’t why you came home, after all.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t find the offer acceptable,” he replied, his eyes quickly glancing her over. It had been a handful of years since they’d seen one another, Arthur having gone off to the army at age 16, but she was a welcomed sight. 

'I-I know but you didn't… expect this when you came back," she pointed out, watching the way his eyes had quickly glanced her over. Nora couldn't help the warmth that flooded her as she gave him a similar look over once more. 4 years was apparently a very long time. 

"Nora, I appreciate your concern but I must ask - do you agree to marrying Arthur?" Jonathan asked. He sounded tired. “I need to know if I am burying one son and marrying off another on the same day.” 

Nora looked over at him. "Yes. I do."

Jonathan nodded. "Then the preparations for the wedding shall continue. Theodore, I shall see you this afternoon. Nora, thank you. Arthur, go have the servants ready you. The ceremony starts at midday."

══════════════════

“Please hold your arm up, Lord Maxson,” the tailor ordered gently.

“I _am_ holding it up.”

“Higher and out straight. You’re letting it slack.”

Arthur grunted in annoyance and raised his arm a little, straightening it out some more while attempting to keep it still lest the tailor scold him again for the umpteenth time since he’d started getting fitted for his suit. He was _supposed_ to wear the same thing his brother had intended for the wedding, but Arthur… had a different body than Edward—bulkier, taller, no gut—so adjustments to clothing were needed. And there were _a lot_ of adjustments.

But he found himself drifting off into thought after so long. His brother was dead and gone, someone he’d communicated with over the past four years solely through written letters while Arthur was away in the army. He’d been proud the eldest Maxson brother found someone to marry and was rather excited to attend the wedding, ready to see his sibling find happiness and the beginning of a family; and being told it was Nora Barker was not a surprise since the two were friends growing up. Edward seemed to have a thing for her, at least from what Arthur could tell, though he didn’t spend much time with them despite how Nora was closer to his age than Edward’s. Still, the idea of them marrying meant there was a good chance that Nora could whip Edward into shape from his bad habit of laziness and, apparently—which Arthur had been unaware of until this morning—alcoholism.

But that wasn’t a possibility any longer.

The mere thought of his brother had his eyes closing and stomach twisting. He couldn’t—

“Arm. Up.”

Arthur’s jaw tensed and he shot a glare at the tailor but tried to hold his arm up a little more; his tricep was burning from how long he’d been doing it, but he attempted to focus on something else— _anything else_ —that might keep him from having to feel it.

Nora.

Nora Barker.

He last saw her four years ago, but she was so _small_ then, so different. Skinny, wiry, mostly muscle, and still a girl—but not a _woman…_ then again, his own body had drastically changed, as well. But he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he was asked if he wanted to take his brother’s place. Edward’s slightly _crass_ letters around the summer after Arthur left described how Nora had changed, but even as they described her body in sometimes overly specific and inappropriate detail, as soon as he laid eyes on her when they were in front of one another… he was taken aback.

Nora was not what he expected her to be; she was not the girl he remembered who had spent hours sparring with Edward and climbing trees. She had been occasionally a little _feral,_ disappearing off for hours into the woods and wildlands around, coming back muddy only to return after a long bath with yards of fabric that she’d use to make herself new clothes for the next adventure. 

Now that he saw these changes for himself, he couldn’t help but mentally agree with his brother: they were significant and he certainly appreciated them. Nora had changed from the girl he’d grown up with into a woman, and she’d—

“Lord Maxson, please keep your arm up, I do not want to have to tell you again.”

“Damnit, Weaver, I’m _trying,”_ Arthur snarled. 

“Give him a little leeway, please,” Jonathan sighed. “This… is a very abrupt situation none of us foresaw and I doubt any of us are pleased that it is happening.” He watched Arthur, his eyes red and glistening. “Both of you, that is.”

“Can we not just get a different tunic and go from there? Edward’s size was too different from mine,” Arthur grumbled.

Jonathan looked over at the carafe of wine on the table, then ignored it. “I… do not know, Arthur,” he murmured. “I don’t.” He looked over at the tailor. “Is it possible for you to simply amend it based on the shirt Arthur was wearing when he came in?”

“You could just let me wear my own clothes, Father,” Arthur cut in before the tailor could answer, his eyes remaining on Jonathan. 

Jonathan pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You cannot wear your travelling clothes to a _wedding,”_ he said. “If your uniform is smart enough, you may wear that, but if your new bride dislikes it, tell her who chose to wear it.”

Rolling his eyes, the youngest Maxson made an irritated noise. “Fine, I’ll _ask_ her first.”

“She’s doing her own preparations, I doubt you’ll get the chance,” Jonathan drawled. 

“Then Weaver can ask her.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” the tailor mumbled. “I’ve been your family’s tailor for decades and you and your brother are the most difficult Maxsons I’ve dealt with. If you wish to wear your uniform, then I hope your bride appreciates it. Otherwise, I _will_ say I told you so.”

“Weaver will not be allowed to enter the Barker’s estate either,” Jonathan pointed out. _“Most_ likely because given the state she was in when she appeared, she’s probably having a bath.”

Arthur shot his father a look. 

“Arm up,” Weaver ordered.

The youngest Maxson yanked his arm away, holding it against his chest childishly like he was protecting it. “No, I’m wearing my uniform,” he declared before glaring at both older men while stepping off the pedestal he’d been on to elevate himself for the tailor. 

Jonathan sighed. “If you didn’t wish to submit yourself to the dull rituals of marriage, Arthur, why did you agree to this?”

Rather than answering, Arthur just waved his hand as if he was waving the question away and started walking to the door. “I’m going to get ready,” he grumbled. 

“I have no energy to fight you, Arthur,” Jonathan told him, slumping in his chair. “I only ask that you give this marriage your full attention.”

══════════════════

Nora’s red cloak hung over the mannequin, ready for her. It was her mother’s, from her own wedding when she’d swapped the dark green mantle of her own house for Nora’s father’s lush, slightly pinkish red. She hoped she wouldn’t be too hot - she wore a light shift beneath the pale white dress, and wedding parties had a reputation for getting warm with all the candles and people in the room. 

“I’m sorry about Edward.”

The voice came from behind her as her maid was gently brushing her hair, just slowly moving the brush through the dark locks to free the tangles without pulling too much.

“It’s such a waste,” Nora sighed. “He shouldn’t have drunk so much or been near the river. His friends should have known that.” She linked her fingers together. “But I don’t imagine they’re unaware of that. It must be pretty tough for them.”

“I’m sure they feel terrible about what happened,” Maria said quietly. “They will have to live with it. But there’s nothing that can be changed; what happened is done. I know you lost a friend and your future husband, but we cannot alter the past.”

“I’m still amazed that Jonathan didn’t call it off or rearrange it,” Nora admitted. “He just… asked _Arthur_ instead. I wasn’t expecting to see him. I mean, I _was,_ but… as a guest. They were pretty close, even after he left for the army. I wonder how he’s taking it.”

“Probably not well, but you know men: they internalize everything,” the maid said with a shrug as she bundled Nora’s hair at her back, brushing it all at once. “It’s a lot for everyone, including Jonathan Maxson. But it’s possible he wanted some joy after such a loss.”

“Is it bad to say that Edward and I stopped being friends a while ago?” Nora asked. “After he started… _all that._ We sparred a lot, but… things changed. I caught him looking at me too many times when he thought I didn’t notice, and there were a _lot_ of women…”

“I don’t think that’s bad, no. You were friends when you were younger, but he kind of became… well,” Maria paused to search for the right words, “He didn’t make a lot of good choices. And I told you this before, but it was almost like you were expected to fix what was wrong with him by marrying him. I don’t think _anyone_ could do that.”

Nora stared at her own reflection. “I’m one woman, not a sorceress. Fuck, it would take a _deity_ to have dealt with _that_ man’s shit. He wasn’t even _bad,_ just… a _mess.”_ She thought briefly about Arthur, standing there looking calm and collected and _up and down_ at her. 

“Yeah, and now you have the _other_ Maxson,” Maria said as she set the brush down and began to part Nora’s hair. “I never met him, only Edward. What was he like, you know, back then?”

“You wouldn’t _recognise_ him now if you did,” Nora muttered. “Oh, he was- he was a twig. Nothing of him. He liked to sit inside and read. He’d join us sometimes when we went swimming and he did a little bit of sparring, but I never expected him to join the army. And now he’s-” she broke off, spreading her hands wide, _“changed.”_

Maria paused, her hands freezing in their movements as she went quiet for a few long moments. “… Wait, so you’re saying he went from being a twig to, what, _bulky?”_ she asked.

“Maria, I would break my practise sword on him if I tried to hit him now,” Nora promised. “I- I barely saw _any_ of him but he was just so- so _broad._ And- he had a huge scar on his right cheek. Definitely didn’t give him _that.”_

Raising her eyebrows, the maid blinked a few times in surprise. “Oh. Wow. So… he’s attractive, then,” she said. “Not just _big.”_

“He was _cute_ when I last saw him,” Nora said. “I mean. _Skinny._ And pale. And he used to read through the night so there were dark circles under his eyes. But… _cute._ And now… he’s…”

“Hot? Sexy? _Pretty?_ Someone you’d like to fuck without caring about the consequences?”

Nora spluttered. “That- doesn’t really matter now, does it? We’re getting _married,_ so…”

“Oh, right. So he’s just hot, sexy, pretty, and someone you _get_ to fuck while also trying to have children,” Maria corrected.

“Well, I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Nora sighed. “I’ve never tried it.”

“Do you want me to go ask him? I’ll go ask him.”

“Maria!” Nora squawked. The only thing stopping her from whipping her head around was that Maria had Nora’s hair in her hand. “Maria, they won’t find your body!”

She grinned at Nora in the mirror. “Okay, okay, _fine._ I won’t ask him but only because you’re threatening me.”

“You’re so _meeeeeeean,”_ Nora whined. “My best friend and she’s _bullying_ me.”

“It’s your wedding day. _Someone_ has to bully you,” the maid retorted. “Who better to do it than me?”

Nora grunted. “You’re lucky it’s not _your_ arranged marriage,” she muttered. “It- it’s the _one_ thing I’m really _worried_ about.”

Sighing, Maria continued working on Nora’s hair, her fingers quickly moving. “I know, and you have every right to be worried, but I think everything will be okay. You can handle any man who comes at you, including one who’s apparently built like a castle, and you have swords to chop him up if necessary. We can dispose of his body wherever we need to if it comes to that. You know I’ll help.”

“Gods have mercy, I’m already planning to murder him,” she sighed. “And, well, maybe when you _see_ him, you’ll understand my concern. He looks like he could hold me down with one finger. I really don’t think I could escape.”

“… Okay, so I see where you’re coming from, but maybe look at the bright side—that’s kind of hot.”

“Yes it is,” Nora mumbled. “But! What if he’s _terrible?_ What if he just _rolls_ off me and falls asleep?! I can’t spend the rest of my married life _doing it for myself!”_

“Nora, the man reads a lot of books. Do you really think he’s not willing to _learn?_ And if he isn’t, I’m _pretty sure_ you could convince him to. Just threaten to chop him up,” Maria suggested.

“And we’re back to murder.” Nora bit her lip. “The problem is that… I don’t really know what _bad_ involves…"

“You will. If you don’t like it, if it hurts, if he’s not giving you attention, if you aren’t getting pleasure out of it… it’s bad. We can always talk about it after because you know I want all the details since I’m a nosy bitch,” the maid added with a grin.

“I’m not giving you details about my wedding night!” Nora gasped. “That’s meant to be between me and my _husband!”_

“Oh, sure, sure. Definitely. We won’t talk about it at all,” Maria mumbled as she finished with Nora’s hair, brushing out the tangles from the part she didn’t fix up.

“…you can’t _ask_ me, let me _tell_ you,” Nora requested. 

Her grin widened. “Yeah, didn’t take long for you to give in.”

Nora wagged a finger at her, looking at her in the mirror. “Who else is going to give me marital advice on _sex_ with my husband? My _father?”_ She shuddered just thinking about it. “No. If I need you to be my lifeline, then so be it.”

Maria just kept grinning triumphantly, finishing up brushing out the rest of the tangles as she fell quiet; and then—

“… I wonder if he has a big dick.”

Nora yelped in surprise, her cheeks burning. _“Maria!_ I’m _already_ worried about the night!”

“You’re right, I should have just found out for myself before saying anything. I’ll keep an eye out,” she said, nodding to herself. “But you should hope he has one.”

“You’re the _worst,”_ Nora grunted.

“And yet I’m your _best_ friend. There’s a reason for that.”

An irritated keening noise escaped Nora and she pouted up at the other woman in the mirror. “You will _end_ me, I swear.”

“It’s more likely _he_ will end you. Tonight,” Maria teased, setting down the brush.


	2. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theodore cleared his throat. "I would briefly like to thank my new son for showing bravery in his decision. Marriage is not easy, as no relationship is. And when you have spent so little time readying yourself for it, the wedding is a daunting challenge. But I believe this is a testament to his good character and strength of spirit. Arthur, you have my gratitude and my blessing."
> 
> Arthur raised his drink in acknowledgment. “You have a beautiful daughter, Theodore, and since she can no longer bruise me with her wooden swords, I’m happy to marry her."
> 
> Nora glared up at him weakly even as the guests laughed. "That's what _you_ think," she muttered.

The procession up to the field where the wedding took place seemed to take _forever._ It was just before midday, and Nora was already feeling fairly warm. Still, the gentle breeze brought the smell of flowers and freshly cooked food over to them, and her stomach rumbled. The ceremony itself wouldn’t take long, which was good; she would walk past all the guests, meet Arthur, the priest would bind their wrists together, and then they would break for the feast. 

And after the feast…

Nora tried to put everything Maria had said out of her mind even as she also _fixated_ on it. The thought of Arthur holding her down was- _gods,_ yes, she enjoyed the thought. She _really_ did. A familiar heat throbbed between her legs and she bit back a curse, watching as the open field spread out in front of them, the huge tree in the centre casting shade over parts of the grass. She squeezed her father’s hand gently.

“Nora,” he said softly, “one word from you is all it will take to end this if that’s what you want.”

She bit her lip. “Maybe instead you just… keep a sword handy, later.”

“Are you worried about him?” he asked. 

“He’s a stranger,” she admitted. “I knew him when he was younger, but he’s… _not._ Well. He’s not a child.”

“Absolutely not,” Theodore agreed. “But he wasn’t cruel before, was he?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s just… big. I’m worried what could happen, since I’m… _smaller.”_

“Jonathan would rather you burn his house to the ground than his son hurt you,” Theodore assured her. “Whatever you do if he _does,_ I doubt he will hold it against you.”

She leaned into him as they kept walking. “Hopefully Arthur will be the same as he used to and I won’t _need_ to burn the house down.”

══════════════════

Arthur felt more comfortable in his uniform. For one, it fit; for another, it was familiar, unlike everything else that was happening around him. Coming home for his brother’s wedding, only to find out his brother was dead and that _he_ was to be the one getting married, instead—all on the same day? It was abrupt and unfamiliar and _stressful._ And not only that, but everything was irking him: the noise, the people, the _sun._ He found himself brushing out his beard and clenching his fists a lot from anxiety, though nothing seemed to help; the heat _especially_ didn’t help, which made him glad he’d kept off the chainmail from his suit, leaving him in an embroidered tunic, his cloak, pants, and black leather boots. 

“Is she coming?” he asked, glancing over to Jonathan. He was getting impatient, though it was more from nervousness than anything else.

Jonathan gazed up the field, looking at the procession coming their way. “Yes, they just walk very slowly,” he assured him. 

“What if she changes her mind at the last second?” the younger man questioned, one hand running through his hair nervously, brushing it back and out of his face.

“You probably should have smiled at her then,” Jonathan grunted. He softened. “If you don’t want to do this- we can call it off, burn your brother’s body, celebrate his life.”

Shooting his father a slight glare, Arthur looked away and toward the field. “No, I want to do this. I’m just…” he paused, thinking, “A lot is happening at once.”

“It is.” He folded his arms, watching as the procession finally reached the field. “Do not worry about Nora. She agreed to this match even though I saw the way she sometimes looked at your brother. They stopped being friends some time ago, Arthur. She will not change her mind if she didn’t change it when her groom seemed to disinterest her.”

“You should have told me about his drinking,” the younger Maxson said quietly. “Rather than telling me everything was fine and me finding out when I arrived.”

“A man liking a drink isn’t something to concern his brother with when he’s out fighting,” Jonathan said. “I thought it was casual. A drink or two each night. I didn’t realise he was putting himself in danger.” He sighed. “The truth is I was as clueless about it as you.”

Glancing to his father, his eyes then lowered to the ground as he thought. It should have been obvious, shouldn’t it? That Edward was a drunkard? His friends knew, right? Nora knew? _Someone_ had to know—a man didn’t just get drunk during the party before his wedding and end up dead in the river because of a habit while no one had any idea about it.

“You know,” Arthur started, keeping his gaze on the ground by his feet, “He wrote to me about her over the years.”

“He was more taken with her than she with him,” Jonathan agreed. “Part of me still wonders what made her say yes. What drove her decision.”

“Who knows,” Arthur mumbled with a slight shrug. “Edward certainly had an infatuation with her as we were growing up. Maybe he kept asking her to marry him on his own and eventually she just gave in,” he added with a slight huffing laugh.

“Do you remember the bruises he came home with?” Jonathan recalled. “I doubt Nora would have let him brow-beat her like that. She’d have smacked him across the face.” He paused. _“Infatuation_ seems… strong.”

Arthur snorted. “You never read the letters he sent me,” he said, looking back at Jonathan. “Talking about the way she looked and the way she changed. I had no idea what to expect when I came back, but it was definitely _something.”_

“Arthur,” Jonathan tutted. “I don’t want to hear it. That’s your wife to be and whatever your brother said to _you,_ I’m not in the least bit curious.”

The younger man held his hands up. “I never asked for any of it nor did I even comment on it, he just kept writing about her. Like I said, _infatuation.”_

Jonathan’s brow quirked, and he looked up to see that the procession had come closer. “Well, you might want to keep such _letters_ a secret. She enjoys wielding that practise sword of hers and I don’t doubt she’s trained with the real thing, if I know Theo.”

“I’m sure she has,” Arthur mumbled as he followed his father’s gaze. “She’s certainly not what I expected nor remember.”

“What _were_ you expecting?” Jonathan asked. He could make out Theo and Nora from behind the two maids walking in front of them, and then they moved aside to let them approach, standing on the left just behind where Nora would end up. 

The second Arthur saw her, everything changed; the doubts, the worries, the anxieties all dissipated into the air like smoke. His lips slightly parted as he watched her approach, eyes slowly looking her up and down, taking in the sight of her in the dress and just how she looked overall; _fuck,_ she looked good. Incredible. _Gorgeous._

Definitely not what he expected nor remembered.

The dress was simple but it _clung_ to her, vibrant flowers woven into her dark hair. She stood out among the guests and servants, and even if the dress and flowers _didn’t_ make her stand out, she would have stood out to _him,_ because all he could do was stare, his eyes zeroed in on her as she grew closer. 

“Not that,” he whispered, finally answering his father's question—because he didn’t expect this, not in the least.

Jonathan chuckled softly.

Nora felt her cheeks burn as she took in the sight of Arthur in what must have been his uniform, a mixture of pale and dark greys with the royal emblem stitched into it. Whatever _Edward_ had been going to wear paled in comparison to the man standing in front of her, and she felt that _heat_ again between her thighs as Theodore guided her up to stand on Arthur’s left beneath the tree. 

The priest had been standing there for a good few minutes, and he thrust out his hands immediately. “Your hands, please.”

Nora let go of her father’s hand, and reached forward until her wrist was in the priest’s palm. She wasn’t sure if she _should_ look at Arthur, or if she would do something stupid if she did. 

Despite how she didn’t look at him, he couldn’t take his eyes off her; it was almost like he was entranced by her features, as if she’d put him under some spell he was unable to get out of, and all he could do was just _stare_ at her and _admire_ her. Still, he offered his hand to the priest, trying to swallow down the returning nervousness at the same time.

"Sir Barker, if you would remove your cloak from the bride's back," the priest ordered, and as Theodore did so, he continued to talk. "From this day, the protection of her father's house becomes secondary to that of her husband's, so long as he will give his life for hers and not cause it to be ruined through rash choice or cruel act." The priest looked at Arthur. "Arthur Maxson, in giving this woman your cloak, you promise to protect her, trust her, respect her and partner with her. If you cannot swear to do this, do not cloak her. Do you swear to do these things under the eyes of the gods?"

“Yes, I swear,” he said lightly.

"Nora Barker, in taking your husband's protection you agree to forfeit the protection given by your father in replacement for that of your husband's, so long as you will bind your life to his and not cause it to be ruined by rash choice or cruel act." His eyes met hers. "Your acceptance promises that you will trust him, respect him, and partner with him. If you cannot swear to these things, do not accept the cloak. Do you swear to do these things under the eyes of the gods?"

She nodded. "I swear."

The priest did not release their hands. "Both of you will place the cloak around Nora's shoulders to symbolise your new life working together."

Nora _had_ to look at Arthur now, and when her eyes met his, her cheeks burned at the expression on his face. "…can we talk?"

The priest nodded. "Indeed, it is encouraged."

She bit her lip. "…what's the easiest way of doing this? I unfasten it and you hold it?"

A slight smile broke his lips. “Ah… I suppose so,” he answered. 

She nodded, and reached up to the clasp, waiting for him to be ready. "What happens if we drop it?" Nora whispered to the priest. 

The man smiled. "You have a dirty cloak to wear, that's all."

Good. They wouldn't immediately ruin the ceremony and be denied marriage just for dropping it. That made her feel better.

Taking ahold of the cloak so it wouldn’t drop, Arthur waited for her to unclasp it, but couldn’t help the broadening smile on his face at her words. “At least we won’t be damned,” he mumbled.

"No marriage ever started flawlessly," the priest muttered, as Nora undid the clasp and held it between two fingers, the other two and her thumb ready to take the fabric with him. 

"If we move this to your left, you could slip it over your head and then we get it over my right shoulder first," she suggested.

“Would it just be easier for me to take it off myself and put it on you, then you help fasten it?” he asked. “Or is that not considered working together?”

"I… suppose we're just supposed to find a solution," Nora admitted. "It might look a little better. And there's less risk of you not quite getting it over my head first time around."

This was… frustrating. It seemed _excessive_ and _unnecessary,_ but he knew it was part of the wedding, so he didn’t complain. Instead, Arthur slipped the cloak over his head as she’d suggested and then helped move it on her right shoulder, his hand gently brushing against her as he did.

Nora guided the cloak over her back and onto her left shoulder, trying to ignore the heat on her skin. "Could you hold this for me?" she asked Arthur.

"You don't need to fasten it," the priest whispered. 

"Oh!" Nora's cheeks burned. "Thank you."

With a nod, the man cleared his throat. "Stand to face each other," he ordered. Nora did so, turning her body to Arthur's; he turned to face her, as well.

"Take each other's hand," the priest said, releasing them from his grip.

Arthur reached out first, his palm up and offering for Nora to put her hand in his. She did so without hesitation, trying to keep her eyes off his in case the sight of them made her flush. 

"Look at each other," the priest continued.

 _Shit._ She looked up, trying not to bite her lip. He was already looking at her, though, having trouble _not_ doing so.

The priest produced a length of white silken ribbon and began to slowly wind it around their hands. "With this, you bind yourselves to each other, to your lifetime ahead. Whatever you face, you no longer face as two people. You become one now - one mind, one voice, one front together. Two halves of a whole." His hands touched their wrists, over their pulse points. "In the eyes of the gods, you have sworn and shown all that is needed for a flourishing bond. Now it is in your hands to keep it." He drew back. "As you are now husband and wife, you may seal your bond with a kiss."

 _Heat_ dropped between Nora's thighs without warning and she swallowed, trying not to lick her lips in front of the entire party. 

Arthur was cautious at first, though mostly because _she_ seemed cautious—or was she nervous? He stepped a bit closer to her and could almost _feel_ the heat radiating from her body; then again, it was fairly warm outside, so maybe that was the only reason. Reaching a hand out, his fingertips gently touched her cheek, slowly sliding further back into her hair as his palm replaced their initial presence until he was cupping the side of her face. He didn’t kiss her at first, but instead studied her face for a moment before finally leaning down and gently pressing his lips to hers.

The first touch of his hand had her lips parting, and when his mouth met hers, Nora had to stifle the groan that wanted to escape her. She closed her eyes, her free hand combing over his beard to cup his cheek, and she dimly heard clapping in the background but she deepened the kiss, letting it become background noise. 

His free hand slid to her waist, resting there but not moving any further while he ignored everything that was going on around them; the only thing that mattered right then was them— _her_ —and nothing else. 

"You'll have time for that later," the priest whispered, and Nora jolted, drawing back in surprise. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment and she licked her lips, her eyes dropping to Arthur's chest. 

"This binding will go with you to your home," the priest said, slipping the ribbon off of their arms. "It will serve as a reminder of what it is you have sworn if you need it. Now, turn to the crowd."

Arthur hadn’t expected the priest’s voice, either, since he’d ended up blocking everything else out, though he didn’t startle, but did let Nora pull away from him. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, a bit darker than usual—it was cute; she was embarrassed. Then again, he also had a slight flush of red running up from beneath his beard, but he tried to pay it no mind, instead turning to the crowd.

Glancing at the priest and his new wife one more time, his gaze flicked over all the faces that had come to the wedding. Nora did as Arthur did, their hands still joined.

The priest raised his hands to the sky. "Under the blessing of the gods and in the binding of their own promises, I give you Lord and Lady Maxson." He looked at them both. "You may release each other's hands, if you wish."

Nora looked at Arthur, then back at the priest. "Thank you." She didn't move to let Arthur go. 

Briefly looking back at the priest, as well, Arthur returned his attention to Nora before running his thumb over the side of her hand. “Well,” he started, turning back to the crowd, “Shall we?”

"My job here is done, please don't accidentally set the tree on fire," the priest muttered, and with that he left. 

Nora couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "Oh. Yes. Of course. Where do we even…"

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Head to the tents on the right. Your table is hard to miss."

"Right. Yes. Good. Food," Nora mumbled, looking at Arthur. 

Arthur held his free arm out, motioning toward the tents so she’d walk beside him. “I do hope you know I’m going to burn that tree down, just to spite the priest,” he said quietly.

"Arthur!" Nora hissed. "It's sacred to the gods of marriage. They _curse_ people for that."

The left corner of his mouth upturned a little in a smirk. “Fine, I’ll _cut_ it down, instead.”

She frowned at him despite the _warmth_ that expression conjured in her. "If you dislike the ceremony so much then why did you agree to it?"

“I don’t dislike the ceremony,” he corrected. “It’s simply because he told me not to in such a manner.” They rounded an area as they neared the tents, though he slowed his walk. “I’m fairly certain you would have agreed with me four years ago.”

"Four years ago you wouldn't have made that kind of suggestion," she muttered. "And even if you had I'd have beaten you black and blue at sparring for being so stupid." She gazed up at him. "You've gotten… _obnoxious._ Mildly, but still."

Arthur was suddenly in front of her, _close_ to her, but not touching other than still holding her hand; his frame towered over hers—much, much more than it did four years ago—as he stared down at her with a curious look for a few seconds. “I’m not going to burn or cut the tree down, _Nora Maxson,”_ he reassured her, accentuating her new name. “I was only joking. But if you’d like to see if you can beat me black and blue again, I’m sure we can work something out.” The smirk grew just slightly.

Him _rounding_ on her like that did unpleasantly pleasant things to her body and she held his gaze, her brow furrowing, despite the abrupt change in her heartbeat. "What happened to the Arthur who hid in the library reading anything he could get his hands on? I barely recognise you."

“I still read quite a bit,” he told her, “But joining the army demanded I change my physique and, well…” he shrugged. “You don’t like the way I look? Prefer the old me?”

"I don't know," she drawled. "There's more of you to bruise now."

The smirk turned into a broad grin that upturned his left cheek more than his right. “Well, I’ll be glad to see how much of me you can bruise,” he retorted before stepping away, gently tugging her hand to have her walk with him again.

Nora wanted to ask what he _meant,_ but she was almost certain that she _knew,_ and it was too public for her to risk finding out whether or not Arthur's shyness had been another thing to change in the last 4 years. Instead she walked with him into the tent, over to their table, where she took a seat. 

Pulling her chair out for her and pushing it back in when she was ready, Arthur sat beside her before eyeing the decorations around them; they were not something he would have chosen, but he didn’t exactly get a say in wedding decorations, not even if it had originally been his wedding. “How much involvement did you have in planning this?” he asked.

She shrugged. "Not much. I was busy making the dress, I didn't really worry about the rest."

He nodded and looked back at her, his eyes slowly looking over what he could see of her in her dress; it wasn’t much mostly because she was wearing the cloak, but still…

“You, ah…” he cleared his throat, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Nora blinked, and then she smiled at him. "Thank you." She reached up and started to tug the flowers out of her hair. "But I have nightmares about these falling into my food."

“Do you… want help?” he offered, shifting forward a little.

Nora paused. She _could_ ask Maria. But Maria was sitting elsewhere, and when Nora's eyes met hers, Maria _grinned_ at her, and Nora hurriedly looked back at Arthur before the other woman could mouthe anything at her. "Yes, please," she replied. 

Standing, Arthur moved behind her and gently started taking the flowers from her hair, placing each one on the table in a pile. “I don’t mean to sound rude when I say this, but I’m not sure how else to ask. What is the point of the flowers?”

"Uh," burying the urge to moan softly as his fingers stroked through her hair, Nora licked her lips, watching the rest of the guests as they filed in, "they're symbolic."

“Oh.” He picked out another one, setting it down with the others. “For what?”

"For," she looked over the pile of white, salmon pink and red blooms, "well. Red and white are for unity. Red means love, courage, passion, beauty and respect. White is for," she bit her lip, "purity and innocence. The pinkish ones...mean," her eyes flicked to him, "desire."

“Mm, I see,” he said, holding her gaze for a second before breaking away and pulling out another flower, and then another, remaining quiet as he did. “… So, you’re saying we should bring the pink ones back with us.”

"Uh- umm," Nora looked firmly back at the pile of flowers, "well… I won't… need the white ones afterwards so… I suppose…"

“I’m joking, Nora,” he said calmly, placing the last flower on the table; but her mention of not needing the white ones after tonight didn’t go unnoticed. 

"I know," she mumbled, and reached out for the pitcher nearby, pouring herself a glass of cool juice and swigging it. 

He took his seat again, relaxing back in it as he watched her. She looked nervous again; uncomfortable. A lot had happened today and he was likely just making it worse. “Nora,” he said, sighing lightly, “If I’m making you uncomfortable, then I apologize, but please tell me if that’s the case. That’s not my goal and I promise you that I’m just as nervous as you are.”

She swallowed her drink, looking at him. "… so you haven't changed _completely."_ She tapped her nails against the cup. "I- talking about- _tonight_ \- it's always been the one thing that made me nervous to think about."

Arthur laughed lightly. “No, I guess I haven’t. I’ve just learned to hide my shyness better and utilize it differently,” he explained.

But the shift to the topic of tonight again had him nodding his head, his eyes lifting to look out at the guests spread across the yard, flicking from table to table—some maid was staring at him from a bit away, grinning, weirdly enough, though he ignored her. “I don’t want you to think I’m going to force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable,” he said quietly. “I understood your white flower reference and I know what that means, and we can certainly talk more about what happens tonight once we are in private,” he returned his eyes back to her, “But I want you to know here and now that I will not hurt you—I’m not that sort of man. You have my word.”

"I," Nora swallowed, _"want_ to know what it's like, I just… don't want it to be terrible," she muttered. "I don't think you're going to hurt me, don't worry. I just don't have… any knowledge of what it's _like._ You _could_ be terrible and I'd never know."

Arthur stared at her for a long moment, silent, letting her words sink in before he _snorted._ Really, he didn’t even mean to laugh, it just sort of happened. “I see,” he said, trying to contain himself. “I didn’t, ah… I didn’t realize _that_ was your concern.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't make fun of me. Aren't _you_ worried about not… _enjoying yourself?"_

“Mm…” he glanced her over, “No, not at all.”

She flushed, and was saved from anything else by the arrival of Theodore and Jonathan. But her eyes met Maria's as she looked up at her father, and the woman grinned and _quickly_ mouthed _'big boy'_ at her. Nora swallowed down her groan and tried to think of a good place to hide her maid's body. 

The area quickly settled as they were seated, and Jonathan stood, as did Theodore. 

"Today we celebrate the beginning of a new life and mourn the ending of another," the lord said. "There will be no speeches this time - I think it would have been unfair to request Arthur write one in five hours - but instead, just before dusk, we will gather around the bonfire and give Edward's body to the pyre." He looked around. "Please, enjoy your time here in both memory and celebration."

As Jonathan sat, Theodore cleared his throat. "I would briefly like to thank my new son for showing bravery in his decision. Marriage is not easy, as no relationship is. And when you have spent so little time readying yourself for it, the wedding is a daunting challenge. But I believe this is a testament to his good character and strength of spirit. Arthur, you have my gratitude and my blessing."

Arthur raised his drink in acknowledgment. “You have a beautiful daughter, Theodore, and since she can no longer bruise me with her wooden swords, I’m happy to marry her,” he replied, swallowing the anxiety that was threatening to come up his throat. 

Nora glared up at him weakly even as the guests laughed. "That's what _you_ think," she muttered, even as she picked up her drink and took a sip. 

“I’ll be sure to hide any and all wooden swords, then,” he said with a slight grin. 

"Who says I need a wooden one?" she responded, as Theodore sat down. 

"Don't kill him yet," her father chided. "You might need him for something."

"Getting things off of high shelves," Nora sighed. "Of course. You're right."

“Among other things,” Arthur said quietly before taking a drink. 

Her cheeks burned but she ignored the innuendo. "Well, we have servants to do the sweeping and I have a maid." She looked over at Theodore. "… I can ask Maria to come with me, can't I?"

Theodore smiled. "I don't think Maria would stay without you, so you might not have a choice."

"So I have a maid, and people who do the housework," she glanced over at Arthur, almost daring him, "what's your job going to be?"

Taking another drink, he kept his eyes on her the entire time; and once he set the cup down, there was a slight curve into the left side of his mouth. “Giving you children.”

"Do the two of you mind," Jonathan said faintly, as plates and bowls filled with food began to be brought out, "I'd rather not overhear this."

"He started it," Nora muttered. 

"Jon, I think we made a mistake," Theodore sighed. "They're going to kill each other."

Arthur couldn’t hold back his grin any longer. “And I finished it, too,” he retorted triumphantly. “But don’t worry, she won’t kill me—she already likes me too much.”

Nora snorted, leaning back in her chair. The two older men exchanged glances over her head. 

"Since we have no speeches, we have no need to be here," Theodore said. "Your thoughts?"

"I agree completely," Jonathan replied, and with that, they both stood, and Nora watched them walk away. Theo shot her a glance over his shoulder, brows raised, eyes soft.

 _I can come back,_ it asked, as though he was having second thoughts about leaving her alone with Arthur. She just glanced up at her new husband, kicked his ankle lightly, and grinned back at her father. He rolled his eyes, smiling fondly, and the two fathers disappeared into the crowd to join the other guests. 

“It seems we’ve been abandoned,” Arthur said quietly after glaring down at her foot. 

"We're terrible company, clearly," she agreed. 

“It must be you. People typically like me,” he teased. 

"No, no, we're one person now," Nora reminded him. "Remember what the priest said? One voice, one mind, one front. So it's we."

“Mm, no, I don’t remember that. I’m still stuck on the tree. Sorry.”

"Pyromaniac," she muttered. 

“Keep that word in mind later,” he said. 

"Are you going to burn the house down?" Nora drawled as she began to serve herself food. 

“No, but the bottom of your feet will feel like they’re on fire by the time I’m done with you,” he explained. 

Her brow arched. "Meaning?"

Arthur smiled and started serving himself, as well. “You’ll see.”

"Was that meant to be vaguely ominous?" Nora asked, unimpressed.

“Quite the opposite.”

"I'm still lost." She stabbed a bit of meat with her fork and popped it into her mouth.

“Why don’t you ask your friend who keeps staring over here and grinning? She might know something,” he teased. 

Nora blinked. "… how does _that_ have anything to do with… _that?"_

He shrugged. “Or you could just wait to find out. I’d prefer to show you, really.”

"You know if you don't," she swallowed, _"perform_ Maria's going to want to know _everything."_

“And I have no doubt you’ll tell her either way,” he said as he took a bite. 

"You know me so well," she muttered, turning her concentration on her meal. 

He paused. “Did I offend you?”

"No. I'm just hungry. Stop being nice, you're obnoxious and I like you that way," she replied. "We never used to _banter._ You're not bad at it."

A grin spread across his face again. “So you _do_ prefer me now compared to how I was before.”

She fixed him with a look. "Well, you hardly joined in before. You just sat and read. You'd disappear for hours and even if I came looking for you, I hardly ever got to drag you away from your reading." She shrugged. "I have your attention now, so, yes, I like it a bit better."

“Are you saying you wanted my attention before?” he asked curiously, taking another bite. 

"We used to be friends, didn't we?" Nora replied. "I wanted you to come outside and play."

“That’s not what I’m asking. Did you want my attention before like you have it now?” he clarified. 

She paused. "I don't know. You… left before I could work that out."

“I see. My brother was always fond of you,” he said quietly. “I honestly thought you were fond of him, as well. At least before I left, I did.”

Nora looked down at her plate. "I used to be," she admitted, and then looked up at Arthur. "Boys your own age are never all that interesting when you're 16. So, I don't know, he seemed… older. That fascinated me. And then he got _too_ old."

He nodded in understanding. “Why did you agree to marry him, then?”

"He was all right, he was nice, he seemed to like me, and I knew him," she replied. "I knew he was decent and if I could get him to stop… well… _all that,_ he'd make a decent husband." She looked away. "And there wasn't anyone else I was interested in, so…"

Arthur went quiet for a moment, thinking as he chewed his food. “… Would you have agreed if it was me in the beginning?”

She pressed her lips together. "… does that matter now? I don't… know. If you hadn't gone off to the army, you might not be like _this."_ She shrugged. "Maybe I would have pestered you out of the library finally but I don't know…"

“I suppose it doesn’t,” he admitted, shrugging. “I was just curious.”

She looked back at him. "In my defence, you always had these big dark rings under your eyes from where you read into the night, so I always thought you needed a nap."

Laughing, Arthur nodded again. “I always preferred to read rather than sleep. Still do, really. But those were nothing compared to the bruises you sent me home with after sparring.”

She grinned. "You should've come out more then. Maybe I would've beaten you less."

“Well, I’m more than happy to have a rematch.”

"You _know_ you'd beat me now, that wouldn't be fair," she pointed out. "Besides, you're bigger than you used to be. I'd probably break my practise sword on you if I tried."

He grinned again. “I have no doubt you’ve improved your skill just as much as I have, but if you’re _that_ concerned, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Oh please, I don’t need coddling,” Nora muttered, and carried on eating, the conversation ceasing for a moment or two as she methodically cleared her plate. 

“Of course not,” he quietly teased and finished eating, glancing up at her often. Arthur couldn’t convince himself to stop looking at her—she looked so different from what he remembered. 

“Anyway, I think you just want an excuse,” Nora added. “You’re hoping to show off.”

“Fair assumption,” he said with a nod, “But in my defense, I’ll have plenty of time to do that later.”

Nora’s gaze darted down to the plate. “… show off how?”

“Don’t worry, _Lady Maxson,”_ Arthur said with a smirk, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

 _Oh,_ there was an unmistakable undertone there. 

Nora quickly went back to eating, piling more food onto her plate, her eyes scanning the guests. She recognised cousins and aunts and uncles from her mother’s side of the family, and when they looked over at her they waved. In the minutes it took them to finish their meal, she did the same, and soon they were coming over to speak to her, to give her their condolences but also congratulate her on her marriage. More than a few appraising looks were given to the man sitting next to her, and their presence seemed to open a flood-gate of well-wishers that were only cut off by the servants clearing away empty bowls and plates to prepare for the pudding. 

Arthur was mostly silent as her family approached other than when spoken to, though he was always friendly and kind, especially when given condolences and congratulations. For the most part, however, he observed as Nora interacted with her family—her _very large_ family—and saw the adoration and love she showed them even as they invaded her space and played around with her. It was… cute, really. He hadn’t expected her to have such a huge family even though he’d known her for so long, and it would certainly make for over-crowded, overwhelming, and frustrating reunions, but how she treated them was almost a glimpse at what their life would be like together, especially with how she acted with children. 

The flurry of congratulatory guests died down, and Nora looked over briefly at Arthur, to see how he had been taking it. She had been expecting a look of discomfort, but instead he was watching her, those big blue eyes concentrated firmly on her. Her cheeks burned. 

“What?” she asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

He cocked one eyebrow momentarily, unsure what she was talking about at first until he realized he’d been staring quite a bit; a small smile crossed his lips. “Ah, no, you don’t,” he answered, glancing down for a second as he paused. “You’re just very beautiful, is all.”

Nora flushed. "Thank you," she mumbled. "You look… the uniform, it suits you."

“I hoped you’d appreciate it,” he replied, smirking. “It was either this or standing still for a few hours while the tailor adjusted the attire my brother was intending to wear so it would fit me. I have a lot of patience, but not for that.”

Nora paused. "I'm glad you didn't wear it," she said, as more bowls were brought out filled with fruit and plates of cake were set on the tables. 

“Are you, now? And why is that?” he asked while leaning out of the way so the bowls and plates could be set down. 

Nora waited until the servants were gone. "You aren't him. So, wearing his clothes would seem strange." She shrugged. "And the grey suits you. Brings out your eyes."

Nodding, Arthur flicked his gaze up to her once more, and his smirk broadened. “You like my eyes, do you?” he teased. 

She rolled her own. "I'm going to stop giving you compliments if you don't stop trying to bolster your own ego," she sighed. "Yes, I like the colour." She hurriedly grabbed an apple and began to eat it to fend off any more questions. 

The smirk only turned into a grin but he gave her peace while grabbing some cake, putting it onto his plate and jabbing at it with his utensils. It’d been a while since he’d eaten this well, let alone eaten anything this _good,_ and he was trying to take his time; plus, Nora was fairly distracting.

“So, what is it you’ve been doing the past four years?” he asked. 

Nora finished her mouthful. "Working on the farms," she replied. "Made some clothes. Finished schooling. I read a lot too. And, well, when I turned 18 my father hired a maid for me, so, that took some getting used to. I've been earning my keep. The only fighting I've been doing involved practise swords. It's not the most exciting life but I was enjoying it being mostly quiet except for the wedding." She looked over at him. "I don't suppose you want to talk about war."

As she spoke, he couldn’t help but watch her. Even when describing something she wasn’t passionate or excited about, there was still _something_ in her tone that drew him in, and he couldn’t convince himself to look away, instead hovering his fork in his hand without having even taken the food off it.

But as soon as the topic turned to _him,_ Arthur’s eyes finally diverted from her, looking off to the side and into the crowd of people. “No, not really,” he admitted quietly. 

Nora looked at his plate. "If you don't eat that cake, I will," she warned with a grin. 

He glanced down at it, then up at her. “Are you saying you want me to feed you my cake?”

Nora's hand darted out for the plate without a word, just a broadening smile. He let her. 

"Oh come on, it's not fun if you don't even try," she huffed, and stole the slice off his plate, quickly biting down on it. 

Humming, Arthur set his fork down. As soon as she pulled the piece of cake from her mouth after biting down onto part of it, he quickly reached over and gently grasped her wrist, then slowly pulled her hand back toward him. 

Nora tugged on her wrist, still chewing, and with her other hand she freed the cake and held it away. 

Narrowing his eyes, he abruptly yanked her wrist so she fell against him and was forced to collide with his chest while his other hand reached for the cake. And since he had longer arms, he had a much better chance of grabbing it. 

Nora had swallowed her mouthful, and when she found herself dragged up against him - _gods he was strong_ \- her lips parted, a heat throbbing between her thighs. "S-see," she stammered, _"now_ it's fun."

He grabbed the remainder of the cake from her hand but didn’t let her pull away from his chest. “You’re right,” he agreed in a low tone. “It’s much more fun this way.” But rather than eating the cake himself, he held it in front of her. “Here.”

"Nope, that's yours," Nora told him with a grin, trying to ignore the rapid beating of her heart. "Have fun."

With one hand still on her wrist, he gently dragged his thumb over her pulse point just as he leaned his head down a bit, his mouth close to her ear. “Let me feed you the cake, Nora,” he whispered. 

She tugged a little. "No, your cake. You won it. Can you, ah, let me go?"

Immediately, Arthur released her and sat back in his chair, popping the remainder of the cake into his mouth because he knew it was a losing battle any other way. 

Nora shot him a slightly wobbly grin of triumph and quelled the urge to take a deep breath to calm herself down. Grabbing a handful of grapes, she placed them down on the plate and started picking at them. 

Wiping his hands on a nearby cloth, he then slumped in his chair a little, crossing them over his stomach and threading his fingers as he watched her. “You’re still stubborn,” he commented. 

She preened. "I know."

Arthur shook his head while grinning. “I feel like that’s going to give me problems in the future.”

Her brow raised and she looked at him. "Depends what I need to dig my heels in about. What are _you_ thinking will cause you problems?"

“Mm, that you’ll just disagree with me solely to disagree with me _because_ you’re stubborn.”

She shook her head. "I'm not going to do that. I want this to work. Besides, you're still my friend, aren't you?" 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “Of course, but I was only joking, Nora. I don’t actually think we’re going to fight all the time just because you’re stubborn.”

She paused. "Oh. Sorry. It's just… something my mother used to do to Father."

“Ah. My apologies. I didn’t intend to upset you or bring up old memories,” Maxson quietly replied.

"That's ok." Nora met his gaze. "I still want to be your friend. I was always wondering how much you'd changed when you were gone. So it's… good to see you again."

“I’d often wondered the same thing,” he admitted quietly. “When I heard you were marrying Edward, I was… nervous coming back here, wasn’t sure what to expect, how much things had changed. But, I will say there is no one else I’d rather marry.”

Briefly Nora wondered what must have been going through his head as he found out his brother was getting married, how _long_ Arthur had been feeling this way and why he had never said anything about it. Or maybe it wasn't so brief, because she realised that she had been staring at him, her cheeks hot. She should have written to him more. Should have tried to keep their friendship going long-distance. But she hadn't. Looking away, she bit her lip. "Why… were you nervous?" Nora finally asked. 

Arthur hummed quietly as he looked out at the guests again, thinking, trying to find the right words to say. It wasn’t often he wasn’t quick on his feet but something about her made him hesitate before he spoke, made him search for the words he wanted. “We weren’t very close before I left but I wish we were. Edward spoke fondly of you in his letters, as did my father of your family, and once you and I stopped writing to each other…” he paused and scratched at his jaw a little, “I thought maybe something had changed between us.” He shrugged one shoulder. “And then hearing and eventually seeing how you changed, not knowing if you were the same person, I was nervous about it.”

Nora leaned back in her chair, mulling over his words. "You mean _you_ like the new me too?" she finally said with a weak smile. 

“Maybe fifty-fifty,” he teased. 

She fixed him with a fake glare. "Oh, come on."

Holding up his hands in a defensive position, he couldn’t stop his smirk from turning into a grin. “You were actually _nicer_ to me back then, strangely enough.”

"I used to hit you with a wooden sword and constantly bother you when you were trying to read!" Nora protested. "I sent both of you home with bruises every day! Are you saying you prefer that to me being your wife and kissing you?"

Arthur shifted his hands like he was weighing the options. “Well, I mean…”

She rolled her eyes. "You're an arse," she sighed, turning back to her grapes. "Honestly. It's not like I can shapeshift back to being a teenager, so you're stuck with me."

“Yeah, well, you’ll learn to love me,” he mumbled just as he leaned forward to steal a grape. 

She smacked his hand even as her cheeks burned. "And to think I used to find you cute. Adorable even."

 _“‘Adorable’?”_ he scoffed, going for a grape again. “Are you _trying_ to insult me?”

She pulled her plate out of the way. "You were shorter than me! Very skinny, you used to let me pull you around by the wrist and drag you outside. Hung on my every word. Adorable."

Pursing his lips when she pulled her plate away, he grabbed onto the legs of her chair and pulled her closer to him, then reached for a grape again. “You didn’t give me much choice on whether I would be pulled around,” Arthur mumbled. “But how would you describe me _now,_ hm?”

 _Big._ "Obnoxious, remember?" Nora drawled, draping her arms around his neck to distract him.

One of his arms went around her waist, his other to her plate for the grapes—he was _determined._ “Nice try, but that’s not comparable to _‘adorable.’”_

Nora's leg came up behind her and she pushed the plate further away. "Because," the plate was now out of both their reaches, "you're _not_ adorable any more. You're very _tall."_

Leaning closer to her, he still reached for it. “And?”

"Smug," Nora added, pressing herself against him like she could stop him despite the difference in size. 

“Yeah?” His face was close to hers now, mere inches away, and he glanced down at her lips before looking back up to her eyes. “What else?”

"Cut it out, you're in public!" Maria yelled from across the tent, and Nora drew back like she'd been burned, suddenly remembering that yes, they were in fact in the middle of their wedding feast. 

"And I bet you're one of those men that falls asleep just before dinner," she responded. "Because they're always tired."

Arthur snorted and shook his head. “Yes, that’s me,” he said sarcastically just as he leaned up and forward and somewhat against her to grab her plate since it’d been out of reach before. 

Nora looked up, saw his mouth, and her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't help it, leaning in to brush her lips against his before launching herself towards the plate to grab his wrist and stop him from dragging it closer. 

He was caught off guard, pausing long enough that she’d easily had enough time to grab his wrist, but as soon as he regained himself, Maxson reached around her with his other hand and grabbed the bunch of grapes and quickly held it above her, out of her reach. 

Nora pouted, staring at him, and then she grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a proper kiss.

Yet again, he was caught off guard, though this time the kiss was longer and deeper. It convinced him to gradually lower his arm as his free hand cupped her jaw before sliding a little further back, fingers threading into her hair and pulling her closer to him and more into the kiss. 

Groping around, Nora found his hand and the grapes, plucking one from the bunch. She broke the kiss reluctantly, but then popped the grape into her mouth. 

He watched her as he was just slightly panting, a smile crossing his face. “That’s what we call cheating.”

"You're stronger, I'm cleverer," Nora grabbed another grape, "so it evens out."

Before she was able to eat the second grape, however, he pulled her forward again since he still had his hand in her hair, their lips meeting once more in another kiss. 

Nora whimpered as his mouth touched hers, one arm slinging around his neck as a wave of heat rushed through her and pooled between her thighs. She crossed her legs, the food forgotten briefly. This had to be a distraction, but gods, it felt like a good one. 

He held the kiss for as long as he could, knowing _someone_ would eventually yell at them, but when he pulled back, his eyes flicked back and forth between her own before dropping down to her mouth just as the pad of his thumb traced over her bottom lip. Arthur leaned in then, his forehead pressing against hers as his eyes closed. “I have missed you, Nora. We weren’t very close but you were still my friend.”

Exhaling heavily, Nora grasped his hand. "I missed you too," she murmured. "If this is your way of… reconnecting… I won't say no."

“I may seem like I speak easily, but I communicate better with actions, and I need you to know that,” he said quietly, “Especially when it comes to emotions.”

She nodded. "Ok." She ran a hand through his beard, cupping his cheek. 

Pulling back again, he looked at her once more, studying her face for a brief moment before he slid his hand from her hair and plucked a grape from the bunch, holding it up for her. 

Nora put the grape she'd been holding this whole time in her mouth and took another one. 

Music started playing outside, and now the bonfire was huge; contained, but huge. A few people who had finished eating were heading outside, and through the tent she could see people dancing. She caught Maria's eye. 

Maxson glanced out at the groups that were beginning to dance before he looked back at Nora. “If you’d like to join them, go on. I’ll be fine here.”

Nora looked over at Maria, knew exactly what she was thinking, and leaned over to kiss his cheek before she jumped up and slipped the cloak off her shoulders. "Look after that, I need it back later," she teased, refraining from climbing over the table as she headed over to her friend. Soon, she was in a group of girls, and they all headed outside to dance. 

But of course, Maria, looking as inquisitive as she did, had more than dancing on her mind even as Nora whirled around, trying not to let the weighted dress hit anyone as it started to rise, displaying her calves. She had tested this for hours and no matter how fast she had spun, it had never gone higher than that. 

Arthur couldn’t help himself as he watched from afar, admiring how she danced and twirled with her friends like a free spirit that couldn’t be contained. Of course, he looked at her legs, but didn’t focus on them much since there’d be plenty of time for that later. But his attention was diverted as soon as someone entered the tent—the same someone who’d been staring and grinning at him and shouted at them earlier. 

“Lord Maxson,” she greeted, helping herself by taking a seat. “My name is Maria. I am Nora’s personal maid.”

“Ah. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maria,” Arthur replied with a nod. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The maid set her arms on the table, fingertips tapping against one another as she silently stared at him for a few moments; it made him uncomfortable and he could only stare back. 

“Yes,” she finally answered. “Nora is my best friend and I want to make sure she’s going to be taken care of.”

“I understand and appreciate your concern,” he started, “But I can assure you she will be treated very well—“

“No, not like that,” she interjected; Arthur cocked one eyebrow up. “I mean _taken care of.”_

“… Maria, perhaps you could enlighten me to what you are—“

“Just make her orgasm tonight, Arthur.”

Maxson stared at her for a long moment, almost taken aback by the abruptness of her demand.

“That is… a private matter,” he finally said.

“Of course. But you’re a big boy, and I’m sure you’re also… well, a _big boy._ And I’m just looking out for my girl to make sure you’re doing it right.”

Pursing his lips, he looked away from her and out to where Nora was. “I, uh, appreciate it, but I don’t need advice.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “If you don’t please her, I’m going to be visiting you again and we’ll be having a much more _in-depth_ talk,” she threatened. 

“Yeah, good. Okay. Are we done?” he asked. This wasn’t a comfortable situation and he wanted to escape. 

“Yup! Now, why don’t you go dance with your wife?”

“To get away from this? Gladly,” he mumbled, immediately standing and seeking out Nora. 

Nora turned mid-whirl to see Arthur coming out of the tent, Maria grinning in the background, and she sighed, heading over to him. "I'm sorry," she apologised as she reached him. "Did she interrogate you?"

“Something like that,” he muttered. “It’s fine, though. Not a big deal. She’s just doing what friends do, I would think.”

Nora took his hands. "Come dance with me and we can hopefully stop you from being terrified of her."

“I’m not _‘terrified of her,’”_ he grumbled while following. “And I don’t dance well, so you’re going to be disappointed.”

Nora guided his hand to her waist as she linked her fingers with his. "Then just hold me."

Holding onto her waist, his other hand was in hers, their fingers threaded, and he stared down at her while resisting the urge to pull her closer. “I want to,” he quietly admitted.

"Hmm?" Nora murmured, distracted by the warmth of his hand on her. "What do you want?"

“To hold you. More than this, I mean. Closer.”

"Oh." She bit her lip. "I’d- like that. But… later. We- we’re going to have plenty of time for that later. When we’re not… next to a bonfire.”

The hand on her waist shifted so his arm wrapped around her and he suddenly pulled her body against his, their fronts lightly colliding. “Or we could do this,” he suggested, a barely-visible smirk pulling at the left side of his mouth.

Nora gasped, her hand gripping his shoulder. “That works,” she breathed, her mouth inches from his. Well. As close as it could be, given how he towered over her. 

With their other hands still laced together, Arthur gently guided them up to his free shoulder before releasing her, his own then moving to her waist as he wrapped his other arm around her, holding her even closer. 

There was something _hard_ pressing into her thigh and Nora’s breath caught, her eyes dropping as her cheeks _burnt._ She could’ve blamed it on the fire but instead she buried her head in his neck, swallowing heavily at the _need_ that briefly rushed through her and settled between her legs. 

“What are you hiding for?” he quietly asked, his head tilting a little so she could keep her face buried. He wouldn’t force her to pull away.

“I can feel your- it’s kind of noticeable,” Nora muttered, nudging her thigh against him.

Maxson paused briefly. “Ah, I see. My apologies, but I can’t exactly help it at the moment.” 

Nora didn’t know if she wanted to step away or not, and she licked her lips, clinging to him. “I-I’ve never,” she started, “ _felt_ \- that is very- does that not get… irritating?”

“It can,” he admitted and reached a hand down between them for half a second, sort of feeling himself discreetly. “But I’m not fully, uh,” pausing, he thought of the best and least-lewd way to describe it, “Erect. So it’s less of an issue.”

The back of his hand brushed against her skin and Nora jolted, holding him _tighter._ Well, if that basic touch had been a promise of things to come… 

“I see,” she whispered. 

“I imagine you have questions. I don’t mind answering them now since we’re not exactly surrounded, or we can wait until later when we’re alone.”

“I’m not going to ask you anything right now, out here,” she mumbled, her face still buried in his neck. 

“Very well,” he said with a smile, gently kissing her temple before he leaned his cheek against the side of her head. “You can ask me as many questions as you want later on, if you choose, then.” 

“Oh, I will,” she promised. 

It was starting to get darker, the later afternoon sun beginning to dip beneath the line of trees behind the field. Nora and Arthur held each other for quite some time as the people around them grew more numerous, but despite the energy and the dancing that went on, they stayed as they were, holding each other and gently swaying. Nora’s eyes closed, and she trusted Arthur to hold her and not let her fall. He smelt _good._ She’d never held anyone else this close before but _gods,_ it made her feel _warm._

Gradually, the people around them began to grow quiet, though, and Nora looked up to see Jonathan standing at the edge of a field with a group of priestesses clad in white, holding something in his hand. Nora recognised it as Edward’s cloak and her stomach dropped. 

“For those who would like to join us in burning the body of my son,” his voice wavered, “please join us outside the temple, where we will be conducting his last rites.”

Arthur had gotten lost in the moment while holding his wife, but the sound of his father’s voice brought him back, demanding his attention and that he focus on another reality of the day: his brother’s death and funeral. He turned his eyes to Jonathan, hearing the invitation and dreading what was to come before returning his gaze to Nora, pulling away enough to see her face. “We need to attend,” he said quietly, trying to hold back the sorrow in his voice. One arm unraveled from around her waist as he reached up and gently brushed some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Nora nodded. “Of course,” she said gently. “I wouldn’t have suggested anything else. Is… there anything you want to bring?”

“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I really just want to get it over with. I loved my brother, but a funeral is not how I want to remember him.”

She nodded, and took his hand in hers. Everyone was heading away with Jonathan even as they stood there. “I should have looked after him better,” she admitted. 

“There was nothing you could have done,” he reassured her, brushing a few more strands of hair from her face. “He was a fool for doing what he did. My father said he was unaware of Edward’s drinking, but I’m not sure I believe that considering everyone else knew. Regardless, no one could have stopped him.”

She leaned briefly into his touch, and wrapped her other hand around his arm. “Well… let’s get this over with, then. He was my friend, too, once. It’s a shame and a waste and,” her head pressed against his shoulder, “and I’m here for you.”

“And I’m here for you,” he replied as he gently stroked her hair a couple times before nudging her off his shoulder. Since they still had their hands together after she’d taken one of his, he laced their fingers just as he started walking toward the temple, nodding his head in the direction of it to coax her to walk with him.

Nora did so. Part of her wondered if people would look at her and _judge,_ seeing just how she clung to the brother of the man who was _meant_ to be beside her. Maybe they would blame her. Think it was something she _wanted_ to happen. She looked away from him, focusing on the path ahead of them instead. 

If anyone _did_ try and blame her for it, she was going to challenge them to a duel. 

Once they reached the temple, Arthur let her enter the crowded space first and followed close behind, his eyes finding his father almost immediately. He hadn’t really been given much time to mourn his brother’s death but he knew he wasn’t able to do so right now—not here, in front of everyone. While his father might have felt comfortable showing those sorts of emotions in public, that was not something the younger Maxson would— _could_ —do; it was a private matter to him. 

“Sit where you wish, I’ll join you momentarily,” he said quietly as his thumb ran over the back of her hand before he let go, moving away to approach Jonathan.

Nora took a seat near the front by her father, leaving space for both the Maxson men. 

Jonathan watched Arthur come over, his hands open for if his son wanted to embrace him. "Arthur," he murmured. 

There was hesitation from the younger Maxson but he eventually moved to embrace his father, pulling him into a hug. “Are you alright?” Arthur asked.

"I am still reeling over the irony," Jonathan replied with a bitter smile. "One son goes off to war and survives to return home. The other has what should have been a quiet life and dies despite what should have been safety." He squeezed Arthur's shoulder. "If I had lost you both, I don't know that I'd still be here." His eyes flicked briefly over to Nora. "It is… good you have been able to be happy still. I hope that will help you."

Glancing back at his wife, Arthur returned his gaze to Jonathan. “I hope you do not think I’m not upset about Edward’s death, Father. I have learned to mourn on my own time, and that is what I will do here, as well.”

Jonathan shook his head. "So long as you understand that after this, I will not be good for much for a very long time. I've held it in all day. I can't be forced to do so any longer."

Nodding, Arthur patted his father’s arm. “We’ll get through this. I’m not great at talking about these sorts of things, but you can always come to me if you need.”

Jonathan gave him a weak smile. "I may need a great deal more of your time than your new wife may wish to give, especially since she seems to enjoy roughhousing with you so much."

The smile was returned, though Arthur’s was slightly sheepish. “Ah, yeah. It was sort of like old times, I suppose. Minus the bruises she typically left on me, of course.” _For now._

Releasing his son, Jonathan stepped back. "Be happy, Arthur," he said quietly. "I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I consigned one son to a life of misery on the same day his brother died. That's all I ask is for you to enjoy your time." He looked over at the procession that was moving through the temple, and swallowed. "Go sit."

There was another moment of hesitation but the younger Maxson nodded and separated from his father, moving toward where Nora was and taking a seat beside her. He ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat as he thought of what to say—but no words came to his mind. Instead, he just sort of sat there silently, waiting for everything to start.

Nora gently squeezed his hand as the pallbearers began carrying Edward's body up towards where wood had been stacked onto a large shallow basin, and Theodore got up to stand with Jonathan, a hand on his shoulder as the man began to shake. Silently, the funeral procession took the body over to the unlit pyre, and carefully set Edward down, slowly and gently moving his body onto the wood. 

"These are not words I expected to ever have to say," Jonathan began, voice wavering. "Nor would I ever want to. But… it is my duty." He straightened up, swallowing. "My son was not perfect, but he was good. No one could ever claim he was cruel. And despite his flaws no one ever disliked him." His knees trembled. "I should not be burying him."

That was about it. He fell on his knees, loud sobs escaping him, and Theo knelt by his side as the priestess poured the oil on the corpse, stepping back. The high priestess came forward. 

"May the gods take his soul in their mercies, and return him to the cycle that works through us all."

She held up her torch, and then lowered it into a well of oil that ran down into the shallow basin where Edward's pyre was. The flames lit up, burning in a line down to the wood, and with that Nora watched the fire begin to consume the wood and Edward with it. 

The sound of his father sobbing was not something that should have affected him—at least Arthur didn’t think so. He’d been around soldiers who’d cried their eyes out; he’d been around the dead and dying, even those he’d fought alongside in war; and he’d been around people who’d mourned their loved ones while he’d held it all in. But his father sobbing and collapsing in front of everyone was like a ringing in his ears that wouldn’t stop, and the brightness of the fire that consumed his brother felt like he was looking at the sun when it was at its highest point in the sky. 

He wanted it to stop. But there was nothing he could do.

Leaning forward, Arthur rested his elbows on his knees while his hands went to his head, a couple fingers sliding into his hair as he tightly closed his eyes like he was trying to drown out the sound of his father and the image of the flames that were burned into the backs of his eyelids.

Nora wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, one hand cupping his face. She didn't know what she could say. 

It took a few moments for Maxson to eventually lean into her, finding some amount of comfort from her embrace. But the constant noise and brightness and _smell_ was overpowering and were things he just couldn’t ignore, and he soon pulled away from her while shaking his head. “I need to leave,” he mumbled as he pushed himself to his feet. “I can’t be here anymore.” 

Quickly, Arthur left the crowded area, not caring if she followed him because he just needed to _escape._

Nora watched him go, heading over to Jonathan. "Arthur… needs some air," she mumbled.

Theodore nodded to her. "Go on."

Pressing her lips together, Nora turned, and followed her new husband out of the temple.

He’d escaped back toward the tents everyone had been at before the funeral, though hadn’t entered any of them, instead pacing around the area while he brushed his fingers through his beard and occasionally scratched at his jaw in frustration. 

It was stupid to leave. He should have stayed. That was his _brother_ on the pyre and leaving early wasn’t only disrespectful to the dead, but it was also disrespectful to the gods and to his still-living family. But he just… couldn’t sit there anymore and listen to his father cry or watch the flames flick toward the sky or smell the burning flesh. He couldn’t.

Nora could see him pacing back and forth, and she approached quietly. "Arthur," she called. "It was ok for us to leave."

Despite her silence, he didn’t startle when she spoke, though he continued pacing. “No,” Maxson replied, shaking his head, “He would have stayed if it was me.”

She came over, and gently took his hands. "But it's not," she said softly. "It's not you. You're two very different people. Maybe he would have stayed. Maybe he would have dealt with the pain another way. We'll never know."

His hands being taken prevented him from pacing anymore and his eyes dropped to look at her, instead. “… I left him again.”

Nora cupped his face. "You're allowed to have a life of your own." Her thumb skimmed his cheekbone. "If you're thinking you could have stopped him, well… he _knew_ I didn't like him drinking and he supposedly had a thing for me. If me becoming distant wasn't enough, what are you thinking you could have done? Beaten him into submission? Tried to distract him? I did both of those things. All the time. Most days, in fact. This isn't your fault."

“I’m not… blaming myself,” he said with a sigh, looking away. “I just feel like I abandoned him before, and now I’m just doing it again.”

"What would you have done if you stayed?" Nora asked.

“I don’t know, but at least I’d have been here and not miles away fighting a war without any idea of what was happening.”

Nora slid her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "Edward was a grown man. So are you. Please don't think you abandoned him. He had plenty of friends who could have helped him. He had me. Nobody ever realised how bad it was until this morning and I don't think that even he knew either." She tucked a lock of his hair out of his eyes. "What happened was bad luck but it didn't happen because you left."

Sighing again, Arthur closed his eyes briefly, but the image of the pyre was still burning behind them. He returned his gaze to her. “Can we leave?” he asked. “I’ve had enough social interaction today. I just… want to go home.”

Nora nodded, clasping his hand in hers. "Then let's go." 

There were two horses tied up near the field, one of which was hers, and she had to assume that the other was meant for Arthur. Tugging on his hand, she headed towards them, and mounted hers, not caring if the dress rode up. She looked down at Arthur. "Race you there."

Mounting his own horse, he took a slow look at her legs before meeting her eyes. The walk to the field had given him some time to calm down, and her challenge immediately took his mind off the anxieties of the funeral. “Try not to fall too far behind, _Lady Maxson,”_ he taunted before taking off.

"Oh, you're _on,"_ she muttered, and took off after him.


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know,” he spoke against her skin in between kisses, “The moment I saw you after all that time apart… I wanted to do this. To be with you.”
> 
> Nora whined gently. “What… were you thinking?”
> 
> His lips trailed lower to her chest. “Kissing and touching every part of your body. Making you scream my name in pleasure.” His eyes flicked up to her from where he was hovering above her chest, lips just barely grazing her skin. “And you _will_ be screaming my name in pleasure,” he said, reassuring her.
> 
> Heat rushed through her and she swallowed. “O-oh,” she whispered. “That’s… a-a big promise, Arthur.” 
> 
> “Is it?” he teased, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”

The race wasn’t a long one and they were at their new home soon enough, both having reached the stables at the same time; and while Arthur was tempted to argue that he had won, he knew it was a futile effort and that it’d actually been a draw. Regardless, they handed off the horses to the stablehand before heading toward the house, ready to investigate their new home together as neither of them had actually been inside it before. But just as they approached the front door, Arthur stopped, reaching an arm out in front of his wife to make sure she stopped, as well.

“Hold on,” he ordered, looking at the door and then to her. “Something’s wrong.”

Nora paused, watching him. "What is it?" she asked, and moved behind him. 

“I can’t let you go in there like this,” he announced, then quickly turned around and scooped her up into his arms, the back of her knees over one arm while he supported her back with the other, and started carrying her into the house. _”Now_ we can go in.”

Nora gasped as he picked her up, clinging to him. She had guessed that he was _strong,_ but he held her effortlessly as he carried her inside, into the well-lit hall. 

It was much fancier than her own house. That was the first thing she noticed. A large, grand staircase led up to the next floor, and various other doors held other rooms both on this level and the next. 

"Do you want to explore?" Nora asked. 

“If you’d like to, we can,” he answered while softly setting her down on her feet. 

Nora squeezed his hand gently. "Arthur," she looked up at him, "I know it's the wedding night and I said _I'm_ nervous, but if you aren't… if you don't think you can tonight, please don't make yourself do anything."

His eyes flicked to her rather than looking around the room and he studied her face for a moment, humming, before he scooped her up _again._ “Exploration can wait until tomorrow,” he mumbled while setting off to find the bedroom. 

"Oh," she whispered, cheeks burning as he carried her. "S-so that's a- oh." She bit her lip. The part of her that was nervous was wondering how it would be, and the part of her that was _excited_ was wondering the exact same thing. Her hand stroked over his shoulder, and she nuzzled into his neck, letting him take her to their room. 

The anticipation combined with her face against his neck already had him getting hard, but he focused on finding their room—yet door after door on the first level came up with anything but. Arthur soon carried her up the stairs to the second level and, after a couple more doors, found what he was looking for, kicking it shut behind him as he carried his wife to the bed and set her down on her feet beside it, pressing his lips to hers at the same time. 

Nora moaned, even as she started to tremble, and her eyes fell on the screen next to what seemed to be her side of the bed if the drawers with her clothes in them seemed to indicate. "We should," she swallowed, "get… undressed."

“We can do that here,” he replied after following her gaze, though a grin had spread across his face, teasing. “Or do you want to be _proper?”_

Nora looked up at him, and then exhaled heavily, taking a step back. "S-sorry," she stammered. "I just- want to- go slowly."

His grin softened into a smile and he held his hands up, stepping away from her. “We’ll go at whatever pace you feel most comfortable with.”

Nora leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, then stepped away behind the screen and began to remove her dress, leaving her in the thin dress below that clung to her and ended just above the knee. She tossed the dress over the screen so that it hung down over the other side. "Tell me when you're, um, ready."

As soon as she disappeared, Arthur sat on the edge of his side of the bed and pulled his boots off, setting them to the side next to the nightstand, then went to the dresser and rifled through it briefly until he found a loose tunic. Pulling his uniform off, he tugged the tunic on but didn’t bother with any pants, opting to just sleep in his underwear. _‘Sleep.’_

“I’m done,” he called to her after getting into bed. 

Nora hurried out from behind the screen with her arms crossed over her chest and lifted the covers, sliding in next to him on her back. 

Rolling onto his side to face her, Maxson watched as she settled beneath the covers. “Good?”

She shuffled a little closer, looking over at him. "Mhmm." She wasn't quite sure what she wanted, in truth. Just the feeling of being in a bed with him was making a dull throbbing sensation between her thighs, and yet she was _nervous._ "Arthur," she bit her lip, "I'm worried about it… _hurting."_

The arm he was leaning on bent so his hand was supporting his head while his free hand snuck toward her, knuckles gently touching her chin. “It will hurt at first, but I’ll make sure it doesn’t as much as possible.”

Nora shivered, from cold, not fear, and moved closer to him. Without the layers of clothing on him, he bled heat, and she instinctively snuggled in, pressing herself against him and wrapping her arms around him, ignoring the obvious hardness.

"I trust you," she mumbled, tucking her head beneath his jaw.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her close and held her tightly against him; but the feeling of her face so close to his neck again—especially his _throat_ —had him releasing a low noise. “Good, because I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

She nuzzled at him, even as she let her thigh slowly drape over his. "Can," she licked her lips, "you just… start and I- I tell you when to stop?"

A small smile crossed his face. “Ah… if you’re asking if I can just start having sex with you now,” his hand went to her thigh as it draped over him, his rough palm just gently stroking part of it, “Then no. I told you I’d make sure you enjoyed it. There’s more to it than just the initial act.”

Nora looked away. "… like what?"

Letting go of her thigh, he gently took ahold of her chin and turned her face so she was looking at him. “Let me show you,” he said quietly before kissing her again. 

Nora whimpered, her eyes closing, and her hands grasped at his tunic, pulling her body flush against his like it had been at the bonfire. Only now there was much less clothing between them, and it was abundantly clear that she wore nothing else under the thin, clinging underdress. One hand cupped his face, and she panted, a renewed heat rushing through her. 

While their lips were together, his own hand roamed her body, gently touching in places she likely wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with—her side, thigh, collarbone, but not the more intimate spots since he knew she might need time for that. Besides, getting her wound up by not paying attention to those sensitive areas would make her more needy and wanting, and that would definitely help once she was ready. 

Breaking away, Maxson trailed soft, slow kisses down her chin and jaw until he reached the side of her neck where he focused more attention by placing kisses, licks, and gentle nips to her skin. 

The moment his mouth found her neck, Nora was gasping, wet heat pooling between her thighs. Her movements mirrored his, hands roaming over his back, along his sides, stroking over the _muscle_ that she felt there. He wasn't soft in the slightest, but as her fingers teased along the line of hair that poked out from the top of his tunic, she realised that was just as arousing as the way his mouth was working her over. Breath coming sharply, she couldn't help rolling her hips. 

His lips moved to her throat, slowly tracing the column down toward her clavicle where his tongue dipped into the notch just briefly before he started moving to her right side, kissing along the bone and then her shoulder—until he gently bit down right where her neck met her shoulder. 

Nora tugged at her dress as she gasped loudly, exposing her shoulder to him as her own mouth found his neck and started to kiss and nibble, copying what he did. 

The same noise she’d coaxed from him when they were dancing and her face was in his neck rumbled from his chest again as she was kissing and nibbling the same area, only this time it was more obvious—louder. His lips pulled away from her briefly as he sighed, head tipping back just slightly to bare more of his throat for her and to encourage that she continue those same actions. 

“Can I— _mmmnn_ —can I get on top of you?” he asked quietly. “You can say no.”

“What do you want to do?” she whispered, as her hands ran up his arms. 

Returning his gaze to her, his tongue swept along his bottom lip, wetting it. “I just want to feel you beneath me. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

She nodded, and rolled onto her back, releasing him so he could do as he wished. 

Arthur moved with her, his upper half leaning over her first, hands going to the mattress a little above either side of her head and then lowering to his elbows before he moved one leg between hers, his knee gently nudging her thighs open. But rather than his other leg joining right away, he waited, making sure she was alright with what he was doing as his lips went back to her collarbone so he could place soft kisses.

She felt like she wanted to tear off her dress and let him do as he wished, because the more his beard scratched along her collarbone and the neckline of her dress… she reached up and undid the ties holding the top of the dress together and let it loosen, trying to work out what she wanted next as she tangled her fingers into his hair gently. 

“Do you want your dress off?” Arthur asked against her skin while shifting a little lower, teeth nipping just beneath her collarbone before he was kissing the same spot as if apologizing. He was leaning on one arm now, the other having reached down so his hand was on the outside of her thigh, his palm gently stroking up and down her skin without going too high up that she’d be uncomfortable.

She breathed out heavily. “I don’t know what I want,” she admitted softly, even as she tugged her dress down so that her shoulders were both bare. The fabric rested just above the swell of her breasts and she reached down to curl the hem of the dress around her fingers. “Do you- want to- take anything off?”

Shifting up her body again, Maxson pressed his lips against hers in a brief kiss before pulling away and sitting up on his knees, straddling one of her thighs since he hadn’t actually gotten both of his legs between hers. With that, he grabbed onto his tunic and tugged it over his head, then tossed it away before he was leaning back down over her again, his lips finding her collarbone once more. 

One hand remained in his hair, her shoulder tight against her body, and as Nora lay back, she realised that the fabric was wrinkling, showing more of her. Her grip tightened on the dress as her eyes closed, and soft moans escaped her with each kiss he pressed to her skin.

With her attention focused elsewhere, Arthur took the chance to move his other leg between her thighs, nudging them open a little with his knee so he could settle between them while being careful not to grind himself against her despite how damn bad he wanted to. 

“You know,” he spoke against her skin in between kisses, “The moment I saw you after all that time apart…” he nipped her clavicle, “I wanted to do this. To be with you.”

Nora whined gently. “What… were you thinking?”

His lips trailed lower to her chest. “Kissing and touching every part of your body. Making you scream my name in pleasure.” His eyes flicked up to her from where he was hovering above her chest, lips just barely grazing her skin. “And you _will_ be screaming my name in pleasure,” he said, reassuring her. 

Heat rushed through her and she swallowed. “O-oh,” she whispered. “That’s… a-a big promise, Arthur.” She was too hot to really taunt him about it, and the way his mouth was hovering along her neckline was making her want the whole thing _gone._

“Is it?” he teased, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” Shifting his legs closer against her, he spread hers a bit more by doing so to where the backs of her thighs were leaned against the tops of his own. 

Her hand reached down, tugging the dress so that it hid her, and her eyes briefly met his. “I-I’m a little cold,” she murmured. 

As soon as she reached down, he moved his legs further back, giving her more room to close them again so she wouldn’t feel like he was rushing her or anything; the last thing he wanted was to go faster than his wife desired. If she didn’t enjoy it, then neither would he.

But it was clear from her words—or at least how _he_ interpreted them—that she was getting a bit uncomfortable, and perhaps that was her trying to find some distance. Arthur studied her face for a few seconds before leaning down to briefly kiss her forehead, then immediately pulled away and got off the bed to work on starting a fire. There likely would have been one started and ready by the time they’d gotten home if they’d returned later when they had been expected, but considering they left earlier than intended, the servants hadn’t prepared one yet—which left it up to him. 

Nora huddled into the covers whilst he stoked the fire, watching him as he moved around the room. Gods. She couldn’t _not_ stare. He was built like some kind of war deity, muscle thick in his arms and neck, around his shoulders. Her eyes fell on his ass, and they stayed there, watching as he walked and knelt. 

Once he was done with the fire, its flames bright and illuminating the room while radiating heat, Arthur stood and turned back toward the bed, approaching. He’d gone soft by this point but it wouldn’t take long to get him going again. Still, despite the sexual tension of the night, Nora managed to see a side of him not many had witnessed before, because he was _comfortable;_ and when he was comfortable with someone, he took advantage of that.

Maxson pounced her even though she was bundled beneath the covers, remaining on his hands and knees over her, though one hand gently tugged at the blanket. “Are you going to let me under here?”

As the fire slowly began to warm the room, Nora released the covers and gripped at the hem of her dress, nodding. “Y-yes.” She drew up her leg and nudged the covers so that there was a gap, inviting him in. 

Slipping beneath the warmth of the blanket, he settled beside her, rather than atop her as he was before, and wrapped one arm around her waist. “Nora, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to,” he said quietly. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

She leaned into him. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “I just… I’m getting used to this. It’s new for me. I _want_ to do this.”

Slowly, his hand rubbed up and down her side. “Do you want me to go back to doing what I was doing before? I can… stay over here, if you’d like. Or you can get on top of me, if you feel like that’d give you more control.”

“What you were doing before,” she said. “I-I just thought if I took… anything off before, I’d be… cold. And- I don’t really want to be _shivering_ when this happens because the room is too chilly for me to enjoy it.”

A smile broke his lips. “I understand,” he said, leaning over to gently kiss her. “Do you want to try to get on top of me, instead, though? You can keep your dress on, if you’d like. And if it’s uncomfortable, we can switch around.”

“No,” she bit her lip, “you on top is… is fine. Please, um, could you…”

Arthur shifted over her again, his thighs moving back between her legs as they did before but not pushing them wide open like last time. He kissed her again, holding it much longer, while one hand went down to the outside of her thigh and gently pulled it against his hip as he stroked her skin. Nora reached over, grasping the hand on her thigh and guiding it to the neckline of her dress, gently tucking his fingers into it and tugging, just a little, to let him know what it was she wanted. 

With a quiet noise of acknowledgement, Arthur gently and slowly tugged the neck of her dress down, his lips pulling away from hers so he could trail kisses down her throat and neck and down to her chest to kiss each spot as it was being exposed.

She slid her arms out of the dress, raising them just a little to let him continue to pull. Her breath caught as his beard scratched at the sensitive swell of her breast, and one hand moved to his hair. 

It was still a gradual movement, but he eventually slid her dress down beneath her breasts, stopping there and not going any further. He trailed his lips along the top of one of them while a hand gently cupped the other from beneath, thumb rolling over her nipple just as he started moving closer to her other nipple with his mouth.

Her breathing was sharp, but not panicked. She’d touched herself before more times than she could count, but his hands were _better,_ bigger and slightly rougher, and her eyes watched the way his lips trailed towards the dark peak of her breast and her breath caught in expectation, her thighs drawing up. 

Just before his lips reached her nipple, Arthur’s eyes flicked up to look at her, noticing how she was watching what he was doing; he couldn’t help the broad grin that stretched across his face just before he dragged the flat of his tongue along the peaked bud, swirling it lightly and teasingly. At the same time, he gently pinched her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Her eyes closed briefly, a little jolt of heat flaring between her thighs. “Arthur,” she panted softly, but it wasn’t a question. It was a way she had never said his name before and she already liked the way it sounded when she did. “More?”

“More, hm?” he asked. “And what _more_ do you want?”

She looked up at him with a weak glare. “I don’t _know,_ Arthur,” she pointed out. “You’re the only one that _does,_ remember?”

Leaning up her body, he kissed her. “Hey, relax. I’m only teasing,” he said quietly. “I promised I’d take care of you and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Then can you do it, please,” she whispered. 

Part of him wanted to tease her about being impatient, but it seemed her patience had grown thin in more ways than one. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, kissing her one more time. He moved back down to her chest again, licking at her nipple one more time before abruptly sucking it into his mouth, holding it briefly; once he let go, he gave her other one the same treatment, ensuring both were peaked. With a quick glance up to her, Maxson slowly started sliding her dress further down her body.

Nora arched up to let him do so, her voice cracking as she cried out. Both hands were in his hair, nails digging into his scalp. Her eyes squeezed shut and she felt herself _throb,_ heat coiling beneath her skin. The noise of his mouth working her over was somehow more noticeable with her eyes shut but that just made it _better._ The scratch of his beard on her skin had her lips parting wide, lashes fluttering as she wriggled a little under the onslaught of pleasure from Arthur’s mouth. 

The dress remained bundled just beneath her navel as he started paying attention to the newly-revealed area, one hand snaking up to her breast and cupping, massaging it, running his thumb over her nipple, while his other was stroking up and down her side to feel her soft curves. Her body was so much different from his—soft and lithe compared to his rough and bulky—and he just couldn’t get enough of touching her and tasting her. Arthur dragged his lips down between her breasts and to her upper stomach, his tongue gently dragging along her skin as he placed soft kisses.

“You have no idea how good you taste, Nora,” he breathed against her, the hand on her side slipping beneath her back and encouraging her to arch up into him.

“Probably a little sweaty,” she panted, her thighs pressing against him. 

Arthur lightly laughed and shook his head. “Makes it sweeter,” he countered, kissing a little lower to just above her navel. The hand on her breast slid down to her dress, fingers curling beneath the fabric as he glanced up at her. “Can I take this off?”

Nora paused, and then she nodded, biting her lip as she looked away and relaxed to let him remove it from her. 

Sitting up onto his knees, he grabbed onto her dress and gently slid it down her legs and off, tossing it onto the floor beside the bed so she’d be able to reach it if she wanted to. He didn’t lean back down right away, though, nor did he look her body over just yet, instead keeping his gaze on her face at first; but after a moment, he let his eyes drop— _slowly_ —so he was taking in every curve and mark of her body. 

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Nora met his gaze and couldn’t hold it. The _way_ he was looking at her was too intense. Like he wanted to consume her. One hand draped over her stomach, and the other folded over it. She swallowed. Was this it? Was he going to fuck her?

There was one last quick look just before Maxson leaned over her again, his lips pressing against hers in a deep kiss that he held as long as he could; but as soon as it broke, he started trailing kisses straight down her body. “You look so damn good,” he purred.

“Why are you,” her breath hitched, “still wearing your…”

“You’re not ready yet,” he mumbled. “Need to make sure you’re ready.” 

She blinked, sitting up on her elbows. “… how?”

Flicking his eyes up to her, Arthur gave her a mischievous grin, his lips hovering just above her lower abdomen now. But rather than answering the question, he grabbed onto the back of one of her legs, pushing it up so her thigh was over his shoulder as he went a little further down and immediately dove in to drag the flat of his tongue up her folds.

Nora muffled her shocked scream of pleasure with her hands, a tremor rushing through her. _Oh._

He hooked an arm around her thigh, his hand moving to rest on her mound so his thumb was able to pull the hood of her clit back, exposing it while, at the same time, he used that same thumb and forefinger to spread her lower lips a little more, baring her for him. Keeping his gaze on her face, the tip of his tongue flicked against her clit repeatedly, occasionally alternating between that and swirling the flat of it against the swollen bundle of nerves.

The pleasure that slammed into her abruptly was almost too much. It took her breath away, and as her heels dug into his back, half-choked gasps becoming the only noise that could escape her mouth, Nora arched, one hand grabbing the back of his head as the other fisted into the sheets. 

Arthur’s free hand reached up to where she was grabbing onto the sheets and he slipped his fingers around her fist briefly before he went to her breast, cupping and groping again. Her clit was sucked between his lips, tongue flicking against the bud while it was in his mouth. Fuck, he wished he had more hands—he wanted to _touch_ her. _Everywhere._

A light sheen of sweat covered her skin now as Arthur’s mouth worked her relentlessly, and Nora lay there, half-sobbing in shocked pleasure, feeling that coiling between her thighs already. She _had_ touched herself before, often, and it had _never_ felt as good as it did right now. She gripped the wrist slung over her body, nails digging in to ground herself. “Arthur,” she keened. _“Arthur!”_

The sound of her voice had him aching for her; he could feel his cock _pulsing,_ nearly begging to be touched, but he wasn’t about to try to rush anything or take it too fast. Besides, that sound also meant she was _close,_ and he wanted to get her tipping over that edge and tipping over it _hard._ He sucked on her clit even rougher, a low groan escaping him and sending slight vibrations right into her core as it did. 

She didn’t want to know _how_ he had gotten so good at this, all she knew was that she was going to reach that edge _fast._ Hips rocking, bucking, she felt her breath coming in short, heavy gulps, and as her nails dug into his scalp, her stomach started to swoop.

“Oh, _fuck!”_ she yelped, and a tremor rushed through her. 

Her orgasm hit without mercy, uncoiling from between her thighs to sap the strength from her muscles and leave her shaking beneath Arthur’s mouth. Her fingers trembled in his hair, toes curling, and her back _arched_ off the bed, the air hitting her and cooling the sweat that had covered her body as she tried to come down from that high. 

Rather than suddenly stopping, he gradually did so, helping her ride her orgasm out until she was beginning to come down from it, and he released her clit from his mouth. Maxson climbed back up her body, giving her a break for a few moments, and began to kiss her neck. “Good?” he asked against her skin.

Every part of her _twitched_ as he touched it, her skin so _sensitive_ after such powerful sensations. She gently pushed him away, heat thrumming through her. “Yes,” she breathed. “But… give me, I need… a moment.”

A light chuckle escaped him. “Of course,” he said as he moved to lay beside her. “… Is it too early to say I kept my promise already?”

“Which one?” she panted, curling into him. She was suddenly cold, and she had a feeling it was because she had been so _hot,_ and now the room wasn’t as warm as she had been. 

“The one where you would be screaming my name in pleasure,” he answered.

Trembling, Nora ran her fingers through her hair. “Wasn’t a scream.”

“Oh, sorry. I guess you were _mewling_ my name. I’ll have to fix that.”

She wasn’t sure where to look - at his face, at his body, at the ceiling - so she rolled onto her side, and buried her face in his arm. “Mm-hmm.” Nora hadn’t realised that anyone could even _do_ that with their mouth, and now the phantom sensations of his lips _sucking_ at her had a new heat throbbing between her thighs despite how little time it had been since the last time he’d made her cum. She kissed his bicep, her eyes meeting his. 

One of his eyebrows cocked up. “Mm, want more already?” he asked, smirking.

“You’re- where did you even- _learn_ that?” Nora mumbled, clinging to him. 

“I’ve been in the military for four years,” he replied. “That’s probably all you really want to know.”

“I suppose,” she whispered. “Um. Can you… again?”

“Sounds like someone,” he started as he rolled atop her, “Is going to be asking for this a lot. Lady Maxson might end up being spoiled.” Just like before, Arthur trailed kisses down her body until he was between her legs, one arm wrapping around her thigh again to spread her lower lips and pull the hood of her clit back. His free hand, however, didn’t go up to her breast this time, but instead he gently rubbed the tips of his fingers along her slit.

“I need to use my fingers,” he said quietly, kissing the inside of her thigh. “I’ll be gentle and start with one, but if you want to take me, then you’ll need three.”

Nora stiffened a little, but then she nodded, taking a deep breath. She settled back against the bed, watching him. “Ok.”

“I won’t hurt you. It’ll feel uncomfortable and it might, uh…” he thought for a second on how to describe it based on how it’d been described to him in the past.

She cleared her throat. “I’ve… used my own fingers before, Arthur.” Her cheeks burned. “A lot.”

That made him pause. “Oh. Well, that makes this easier, I suppose.” Leaning in, Maxson dragged the flat of his tongue against her clit, swirling along it; at the same time, he pressed the tip of his middle finger against her entrance, slowly pushing in.

The mixture of slick heat and the roughness of his finger had Nora moaning gently, and she lay back, her eyes closing as his finger began to fill her. His was about the size of _two_ of hers, if a little slimmer, and she shivered in expectation. It felt so _different_ to her own. 

“Mmm,” she whimpered, her lashes fluttering. 

“Doing okay?” he asked, his hand stopping where it was at. “I can go slower, if you need.”

“No, no,” she assured him, looking down briefly. Gods, his _eyes._ So _blue,_ and filled with so much concern for her. “This is- it’s good.”

Nodding, he leaned back in again and sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking the tip of his tongue against it while his finger started pushing into her more, working deeper with a steady back-and-forth motion until he had it buried to the last knuckle. He kept his hand still at first, though, even as he continued sucking on her clit, but the first movement his hand _did_ make was a small, shallow thrust that had the pad of his finger moving around just slightly to try and find that hidden bundle of nerves inside her.

He caught it and Nora cried out sharply, a sudden wave of heat rushing through her. The constant, slow, _back and forth_ motions of his finger touched against a patch on her walls that left her gasping on the bed. “Arthur!” she whimpered, half questioning, half thanking. 

A low noise was made against her as he sucked _harder,_ his finger curving to press against that spot a little more while he kept up the slow thrusts. It really hadn’t taken long to find what he was looking for, but now that he found it, he’d certainly take advantage of it every chance he got. 

Pulling his finger out until just the tip was left in, Maxson started to slowly work his ring one into her, as well.

There was a slight _sting,_ and Nora’s jaw clenched, but she let out a long, slow breath. It seemed to help, and as his mouth kept working her over, she relaxed as much as she could with the _pleasure_ that was rushing through her, starting to _coil_ again between her thighs. 

Flicking the tip of his tongue against her clit, he kept working his fingers in, though paused once they were at the second knuckles, deciding to let her body adjust a little more. Arthur released her clit from his mouth then, instead lapping at it while his eyes turned up to look at her face.

Wriggling against his fingers and tongue, Nora groaned, her back arching. She could _feel_ him looking at her, and she briefly looked down to meet his gaze. The sight of him gazing up at her from between her legs was unbearably enjoyable and her stomach _swooped_ again, not so close to another peak but not far off it either. “Don’t stop,” she gasped. 

Fuck, he wanted her badly, and her words made him nearly pulse again. Maxson groaned against her before he started working his two fingers in once more, managing to get them in to the last knuckles while he kept lapping at her clit, allowing her to see his tongue as he did. He started beckoning inside her, pushing up against her sweet spot repetitively.

Nora’s hips jerked, but not from pain. A sharp gasp escaped her, then another, and in moments, as his fingers kept working her, they began to come out in little cries and whimpers. The sound of his fingers was louder, and she spread her thighs as wide as she could, rocking against the man’s mouth. “Arthur!” she cried, feeling that _coil_ tighten. A few more thrusts, and she clamped down around the unfamiliar thickness breaching her, cries filling the room.

Just like last time, he helped her ride her orgasm out, only pulling away from her clit once he knew she was coming down from it all. He didn’t, however, pull his fingers from her, but instead just kept them still. “I can either keep my fingers in or take them out, it’s up to you. But it might be really sensitive if I pull them out.”

She was still twitching again, and Nora gave herself a long few moments to recover. “What happens if,” she inhaled sharply, “you l-leave them in?”

“Nothing, other than I don’t have to work them in again,” he answered.

“Leave them in,” she mumbled, leaning back against the bed for a bit. “How- how soon are you going to,” she bit her lip, “add… another?”

“As soon as you want me to. My fingers are a lot bigger than yours, so three of mine is…” he glanced at one of her hands, “Not the same.”

Nora looked at him. “Go on,” she said softly. “I-I want this, Arthur. I- I want you.”

Wetting his bottom lip, he glanced down between her legs where his hand was, then back at her face before he slipped his two fingers out to where just the tips were left in, then started working in a third. His mouth went to her clit again, tongue lapping at the swollen bud like before to help counter the stinging with pleasure.

Her moan was a combination of discomfort and pleasure, and as the third finger began to push into her, Nora shut her eyes and concentrated on the slick, wet _licking_ that was making her tremble, pleasure thrumming through her. “A-Arthur,” she breathed, running her hand through his hair. 

Every time she said his name, he had to hold himself back from wanting to just take her right then and there; from wanting to spread her legs around his waist and fuck her straight into the mattress. He knew she’d enjoy it, of course, but this was a pace she wanted—and she needed to be prepped, anyway. Besides, he _enjoyed_ giving pleasure… he was just growing impatient with each moan and sigh she made, especially when they were combined with his name.

The third finger was worked in to the first knuckle and he stopped, giving her a chance to adjust while he sucked her clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue against the swollen bundle of nerves. As soon as he felt her body adjust enough, Arthur started pushing his fingers in more, still using that steady back-and-forth motion until, finally, he had them in to the last knuckle.

Panting sharply, Nora’s toes started to curl as he kept attending her, and she rocked, hips rolling against his touch. “Arthur!” It came out as a louder cry, and her heel dug into his back, used as leverage to deal with the pleasure from his mouth that was only barely dampened by the sting. And when his fingers brushed against her sweet spot…

 _“Fuck,”_ he groaned against her, the word muffled since his mouth was… well, _full._ Maxson used his knees to push himself forward a little, his face pressing more against her while he sucked even harder, his tongue roughly rubbing and grinding on her clit. He’d let his fingers remain still inside her since they were hilted, but hearing her cry out his name… fuck, he wanted to please her—wanted to make her cum again. Like before, he started beckoning, the pads of them rubbing against that hidden patch with each movement, his wrist slowly thrusting back and forth to work along with it.

Her breath came out _choked_ again and Nora arched desperately up into his mouth, the sensation of the friction dulling the _sting_ as his fingers worked in and out of her. “Oh,” she gasped, as that coil grew _tighter,_ “oh, Arthur, _Arthur,_ fuck, fuck, _fuck! Please,_ more!”

Angling his wrist just a little, he pressed his fingers firmly against her sweet spot and _rubbed,_ quickly stroking back and forth, beckoning her toward the edge as he kept roughly sucking her clit and dragging his tongue against it.

As Nora tipped over the edge with a sharp scream of Arthur’s name, she realised the soles of her feet were hot, and dimly remembered what he had said to her earlier even as she trembled frantically beneath his attentions, her eyes squeezing shut. Her thighs wanted to clamp around his hand but she didn’t let that happen, digging her heels into his back instead. 

He slowly slid his fingers out but kept her clit in his mouth to help her ride her orgasm until the end, eventually releasing her as soon as she was starting to come down from the high of it. Licking his lips, Arthur climbed up the bed, his hand—the one that _hadn’t_ had fingers inside her—wiping down his face to clean his beard of her slick and cum just before he reached her, and he leaned down to press his lips to hers in a kiss. “Good?” he mumbled into it.

Trembling again, Nora looked over at him, moaning softly into the kiss. “My feet are hot,” she panted quietly. 

He could only grin. “So I kept _two_ promises, then. Perfect.”

Her cheeks burned. “Mhmm.” Nora’s gaze dropped to where she could see him pressed against his underwear. “So…”

Following her gaze, he looked down at himself, then back up at her. “Mm, I suppose I should remove them, shouldn’t I?” he said. “Or would you like to?”

Her mouth fell open. "I- um-" 

She reached down, her fingers skimming over his side to hook into the waistband of the fabric, and she slowly tugged, both hands coming to pull until it began to slip over his hips and down his thighs. "Is," she licked her lips, pulling further, "it's very…"

Nora had lived all her life on a farm. She'd seen animals in rut before. It was normal. Arthur was _different._ She had no frame of reference. He _seemed_ big, but then, so would any man at this time, and she reached out a hand to touch him gently. The sensation was _soft,_ softer than she had thought it would be, and she couldn't help running her fingers up and down him. 

His underwear was pushed off the rest of the way and kicked off the bed, uncaring of where it fell. But the second her fingers were touching him so damn _gently,_ his body nearly jerked away, mostly from sensitivity in a certain area that she wouldn’t have any way to be aware of. Arthur moved to sit back on his knees, still between her legs, and he reached down to take ahold of her hand, guiding it so her fingers wrapped around his cock and slowly stroked back and forth rather than how they’d initially been grazing and gently touching along his shaft. 

Nora followed his example, licking her lips. "It's… not what I thought it would be," she admitted, as she leaned back to try and coax him into following her down. 

He followed, leaning over her. “And what did you think it would be, hm?”

Her eyes fell on where her hand rested, just above her mound now, and she released him, her hands going to the back of his head. "I… don't know. Just. Lots of euphemisms. Like… rod and such. So, maybe I was… expecting something less, I don't know, sort of velvety."

Arthur couldn’t help the snorting laugh that escaped him. “Well, uh… yeah, I can see what you mean.” Leaning down more, he kissed her gently, hoping he hadn’t embarrassed her by laughing. 

Nora felt that hardness against her skin and her hips rolled, rubbing along the length of him, working slowly back and forth as she pressed against him, deepening the kiss. 

The movement coaxed a low groan from his chest, immediately changing his tune and diverting his attention, and he shifted between her legs a little so he was at the right angle and position to push in; but rather than doing so, he broke the kiss without pulling away, speaking against her lips. “Are you ready?” he asked quietly.

Nora nodded. "Yes."

Pulling away from her lips briefly, Maxson wet his fingers and reached down between their bodies, wiping his saliva along the head of his cock before taking ahold of it and guiding himself against her, then slowly beginning to press in, using that same steady, back-and-forth motion he’d used with his fingers as he did.

The first thing she really noticed as he began to fill her was how _warm_ he felt. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, thighs drawing up around his waist, the heat of him was surprising. He was _thicker_ all around than three of his fingers, but he seemed to glide in easier, though if that was the preparation or just the way his cock _worked,_ Nora wasn't sure. Either way, despite the slight sting, she was moaning softly as he began to work his cock into her. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as his head dropped a little, eyes briefly closing from how damn tight and wet she was; but he was quick to regain himself, his lips finding her clavicle to place soft kisses along the bone while he worked himself in, knowing there was likely still some amount of burning sensation from her body adjusting to his girth. Three fingers… wasn’t exactly enough, but four was too much. 

“You are so damn beautiful,” he purred against her, nipping her skin in between a few kisses.

"A-are you," she exhaled heavily, "now, complimenting me? Now?" She smiled at him.

“Mhm, and why shouldn’t I?” he asked. “Or would you rather me talk about how bad I’ve wanted to fuck you all day? How I wanted to— _mmmnn_ —to close our tent earlier and bend you over the table? Or maybe how I thought about whisking you off to my old bedroom in my father’s house just so I could take you there?”

Nora swallowed even as his hips slowly met hers. She was so _full._ It felt so _good._ There was a little stinging, but not much, and she bit her lip. "Tell me," she whispered. "Everything you were thinking, all day."

A grin spread across his face as he kissed up to her throat. “Mm, I wanted to tell everyone to leave us alone as soon as I saw you in that dress so I could push it up and bury my face between your legs.” He started gently grinding his hips against her. “Thought about telling our fathers to leave the room the second we saw each other so I could make up for four years of not being able to do this.”

Nora gasped softly. "In the, the _office?"_ she breathed. "That… soon?"

“You’re very unaware how fucking good you look, aren’t you?” he asked, nipping her throat. “And when I was— _mmm_ —when I was getting fitted, I mentioned asking you what you thought about me wearing my uniform, but my father said you were—“ his hips ground against her a bit harder and he made a low groan, “—You were probably bathing. _Fuck,_ that gave me so many thoughts.”

Nora whined. “I-I really, _mm, liked_ the uniform, Arthur,” she panted. “W-what did you think about when… you heard that?”

Trailing kisses up to her lips, he kissed her before pulling back far enough to see her face. “You naked in the tub,” he admitted. His hips slowly started moving, just barely pulling back a little and thrusting forward to test what she could take as he kept talking. “Touching yourself, teasing yourself while thinking about what tonight would be like.”

“I didn’t,” she whispered, “I was- Maria helped, and- she was _there,_ so…”

The slow _back and forth_ rubbed him against that sweet spot. He was so _thick,_ Nora trembled with each thrust, her hands moving to his shoulders, forearms framing her breasts. She tugged him down for a kiss, her eyes closing. 

Arthur kept his movements slow at first while they kissed, one hand sliding into her hair as he rested on his elbow, the other reaching down to pull her leg more against his hip before gently stroking along her thigh. Once he knew she was adjusted, though, he sped his movements up—only a little—and was pulling out more, as well as thrusting _deeper,_ trying to keep hitting that sensitive spot each time.

A soft moan escaped her, and she wrapped her thigh around his waist, her breathing laboured as he fucked her. The sting had gone, and now she just felt _full._ Kissing him again, she let her nails dig into his shoulders, the steady friction already growing heat between her thighs. “Arthur,” she breathed softly between kisses. 

The sharp pain of her nails in his shoulders had him groaning into the kiss, and the hand that had been on her thigh instead slipped beneath her back, pulling her body so she was arching into him as he pushed himself up to where he was leaning on his hand instead of his elbow, breaking away from her lips. It had her chest closer to him and he took a brief moment to look her breasts over. “Fuck,” he groaned. _“Come here.”_ Leaning down, he covered one of her nipples with his lips, sucking it into his mouth as he sped up his thrusts again, though he was still fucking her gently.

The soft _order_ combined with the sudden attention of his mouth made Nora’s nails dig a little harder into him and she bucked against him, working with his thrusts instead of laying there and letting him set the pace. She knew she enjoyed him picking her up and being stronger than her, but him telling her what to do? She didn’t realise she would _like_ that, and her legs wrapped around his waist as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations. 

Maxson shifted onto his knees a bit more, no longer needing to hold himself up on his hand and instead used it to cup the breast he wasn’t giving attention to, massaging it while he was sucking on her other nipple and rolling his tongue against it before he pulled his head back some and tugged, only releasing after a second. Just as he switched over to her other breast, though, he snapped his hips against her, the action rougher than he’d been so far.

Nora’s breath caught, her toes starting to curl as Arthur gave her his full attention, and a little _more_ than he had been before. She moved herself with his thrusts, her heels locking around the backs of his thighs. “Arthur,” she keened softly. The coil in her core was growing, slower than it had those other times, but nonetheless, she could feel it, and her nails scratched over his shoulder, digging into his arms. 

Every scratch along his body was just egging him on, pulling groans from his chest, making him want to fuck her harder—he snapped his hips against her again, teeth lightly biting her nipple just before he released it and cupped both breasts, running his thumbs over the peaked buds. Increasing his pace, he couldn’t help but fuck her rougher, his hips lightly clapping against hers though he was careful not to take her too hard—at least not yet—while his eyes dropped down between their bodies, watching as his cock disappeared and reappeared with each thrust he made.

“Fuck, Nora,” he groaned. “You’re going to get me addicted to this. To _you.”_

She couldn’t pull his body any closer with him touching her breasts like this but she pulled him in for another kiss, not sure what she could say to that. It didn’t make her _uncomfortable;_ though she had to admit, she would have liked a proper comeback for it. She would have to learn how to banter with him whilst they were doing this. “Please, more,” was all she said in the end, wrapping her arms around his back as his cock _rubbed_ against that spot and her thighs tensed. Just a little more…

His hands slid off her breasts and up her collarbone until they were on the mattress on either side of her head, and he moved so he was leaning on his elbows above her again, his thrusts still going rougher than before but with his body pressing against hers the way it was, it also had his groin firmly rubbing on her with each thrust he made.

“Are you close?” he quietly asked as his lips found her jaw, a trail of kisses being led to just beneath her ear.

She nodded, nails digging into the man’s back as he fucked her. The abrupt _brush_ of his body against her clit forced a soft cry out of her, and she trembled, tugging him closer so that his chest was against hers, the wiry hairs rubbing against her nipples. A little warm fleck of pleasure joined the growing coil between her thighs, and Nora just about realised that she sounded _wetter_ as she came, her orgasm slower but still powerful as she surged against him, clinging tightly to him. He filled her completely, and she felt her muscles clamp down on him as relief rushed through her. 

Fuck, Arthur could feel her _pulsing_ around him as she came, and it nearly made him throb in return. “There you go,” he purred breathlessly. “And I didn’t even need to touch your clit, did I?” His lips pressed kisses against the tender skin just beneath her ear before he nipped at it, briefly sucking it into his mouth to leave a light mark that would be gone before morning. “Mm, _shit,_ you feel so good,” he breathed, still keeping the same pace without having slowed down at all. There was a coiling of heat in his gut but he was _determined_ to make her cum at least one more time before he found his end.

The way his hips kept moving made her fingers _dig_ into his back, shaking as he worked her through the sensitive peak. Trembling, Nora turned her head to kiss him, her eyes hazy as she curled up beneath him. 

“Y-you’re _so,”_ she swallowed, licking her lips, _“big,_ fuck, _Arthur…”_ Nora didn’t really know how to compliment him right now. Was what she just said a good thing? She hoped it was. She felt _amazing,_ hot and sensitive and satisfied all at the same time even as his hips kept moving, cock slipping in and out of her. 

A wide grin spread across his face again at her words. She was _trying,_ that was what counted. He knew she didn’t have any experience in this sort of thing—besides, it wasn’t like she’d said anything incorrect. 

Kissing her again, he did so a little rougher this time, biting at her bottom lip and tugging gently before letting his tongue sweep across it. He snapped his hips against her again, harder than before, a low moan being made into the kiss as he did. One of his hands snaked down between their bodies as he leaned up just a little, fingers barely grazing over her clit.

Nora let out a sharp yelp as he touched the sensitive nub, her nails dragging down his back as her other hand cupped his face. She panted against his lips, basking in the way the constant in-out of his cock worked with the touch. “More, please,” she gasped. 

“You keep begging me like that and I won’t last much longer,” he groaned while pushing his knees more beneath her thighs so her hips were canted a bit, giving him better leverage to fuck her harder while thrusting at a slight angle. He started rubbing her clit in quick, rough circles.

The change of _pace_ had her crying out, and she arched up, digging her heels into his body even as she rocked back and forth with him, her hands running over as much of him as she could, dragging her nails over him. She wanted to see what would happen when he finished, and Nora trembled, her eyes meeting his. “I-is that so?” she panted, a brief smile on her lips. “Noted.”

 _“Fuck,”_ he growled, his muscles tensing beneath her nails each time she scratched him. He thrusted into her roughly a few more times before hilting himself and pulling his hand away from her clit, both arms reaching beneath her back and pulling her up with him as he sat on his knees, bringing her into his lap, his cock still inside her. “Come up here,” he quietly ordered, pulling her so her chest was against his own; one arm wrapped around her so his hand went between her shoulder blades while the other went down to her ass, moving her hips back and forth slowly.

The change in position was unexpected and she clung to him, having abruptly lost her leverage. “Arthur,” she whispered, not sure how to help him. “What do I do?” She missed the attention to her clit, too, but this new position meant he was sunk as far into her as he could go due to her weight bearing down on him. 

“Grind,” he answered, his eyes watching her. “Move your hips. Fast or slow, doesn’t matter.” He guided her hips back and forth again, moving them a bit faster; with most of her weight pressed down onto him, it would have her clit pushing against his groin, which would replace the sensation of his fingers—mostly. “Just do whatever feels good to you, love.”

Her face pressed into his neck, and she wrapped her thighs around his waist, using that so she could roll with his movements. It took her a few moments to work up the right pace but when she got it, it left her panting against his throat, arms hooking underneath his to grab at his shoulders and hold on. Her nails dug in once more, and she briefly kissed his neck, her eyes shutting. The pet name was sweet - unexpected, but sweet, and it made her feel _warm. Love._ Was that a confession? Was it just a term of endearment? Nora didn’t know, and she wouldn’t ask yet. 

Another groan escaped him, not just from her nails digging into his skin but also from her lips on his neck, and he couldn’t help but tip his head to the side and slightly back, baring part of his throat to her without actually _asking_ her to do anything. Still, he was grinding into her, just slightly pulling his hips back so he could make shallow thrusts, focusing solely on pleasing _her_ as his own pleasure was secondary. “You want me to take over again?” he asked, panting.

She dragged her teeth over his throat and kissed his clavicle. “Yes, please,” she whispered. 

The noise he made this time was louder than before as pleasure from the mere scrape of her teeth on his throat was enough to coax it from him. Maxson reached both hands down to her ass, gripping the cheeks as he lifted her off him a little—just enough to give him space to move—and as soon as there was enough room, he immediately began fucking her, roughly thrusting into her from the position he was at on his knees. 

Trembling, Nora nipped him, teeth digging in as she listened to the noise of him thrusting in and out of her. Her gasps grew louder as the angle almost _forced_ her down onto him, dragging him against that sweet spot until she was whining and growing closer to her peak once more. “More, please,” she whispered again, kissing the spot her teeth had nipped as she rolled with him as best she could. 

Those two simple words were bringing him closer to the edge mostly because of the way she said them—the way she _begged_ —and he could feel heat continuing to coil tighter and tighter deep in his belly, slowly but surely. Gripping her ass, he knew he’d likely leave marks behind on her skin but didn’t pay it much mind as he started moving her body with his thrusts, pulling her away as he pulled back and bringing her toward him as he thrusted forward, allowing him to slam into her with more force.

“Come on, Nora,” he panted. “You want more? Let me feel you cum again and I’ll keep giving you more.”

Toes curling, Nora felt her stomach swoop, her thighs tensing around him. She bit him, along the slope of muscle between neck and shoulder, not hard enough to break but enough to leave a bruise before she buried her head in his body and clung tightly to him. Her nails scored down his back, and her voice grew louder. Then the tension broke, and she fell over the edge with a sharp scream of his name, shaking in his arms as he kept fucking her through that peak. 

The bite made his stomach _twist_ as his eyes rolled up, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. He gripped her ass firmly while still pulling her away from and back against him with each thrust he made, that coiling heat rapidly building and building—and as soon as she came, her walls squeezing and pulsing around him, he felt himself so close to tipping over the edge, as well.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned. Arthur quickly pried her arms from around his neck as he leaned forward, pushing her onto her back and using the leverage of the different position to fuck into her harder. He thrusted only a few more times before hilting inside her with a low groan as he came, his hips making slight involuntary movements in the process. 

The sensation of him _twitching_ like that was a surprise, but it felt good, though strange. What was even stranger was the sudden _drip_ down her ass, and she gasped. The sheets were going to be filthy after this. Shivering, Nora reached up and tugged him down for a kiss, still breathless and hot from her orgasm. 

Maxson made a low noise when their lips connected, though he only held the kiss for a few moments before having to pull away, panting. His hips were slightly rocking since he was still buried inside her, but after briefly meeting her gaze, his eyes dropped down between their bodies to where they were connected and he _slowly_ pulled his hips back, his cock slipping out of her. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. 

Gazing up at the man on top of her, Nora trembled as he slipped out, grabbing at him to keep his body pressed against hers. “Hi,” she whispered softly. 

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him as he settled atop her, being sure to keep from putting too much of his weight on her. “Hi.”

She brushed some sweaty hair away from his face, her eyes briefly darting to where she felt the _wetness_ dripping out of her. “Oh,” she mumbled. “That… feels… um… _odd.”_

“Good odd or bad odd?” Arthur asked, leaning down to place a few kisses along her jawline while he caught his breath.

 _“Messy_ odd,” she admitted. “But… not bad.”

"Well,” he started as his lips trailed a few of those kisses to her throat, “It doesn’t take me long to be ready again, so there’s always a chance of getting _messier.”_

Her eyes widened. “A-again?” She felt a _throb_ in response, and swallowed.

There was a pause. “... If you want, of course.”

Nora bit her lip. “How...many times can you…”

“Mm, about four. Five-to-ten minutes in between, give or take.”

Nora couldn’t even remember how many times he had brought her over the edge, and if she was going to get another _three_ rounds from him… no wonder they made jokes about women walking bow-legged after their wedding nights. 

“Are you trying to kill me before we’ve even had children?” she asked weakly. 

A wide grin spread across his face. “Not at all. What would be the fun in that? I’d have to get remarried so soon—who else would put up with me?”

There was a pause, and then she smirked, a little breathless. “True. Who else is going to beat you at swordplay? It’s almost a tradition at this point.”

Arthur perked up and leaned over her, almost looming, as he peered down at her with that same grin. “That almost sounds like a challenge, Lady Maxson. And here I thought you didn’t want a rematch?”

“When my legs work and I’m not in my wedding dress,” she told him. “I’m sure I can think of a penalty for the loser.”

His tongue swept over his bottom lip. “So long as we come to an agreement on what that penalty is.”

Her cheeks burned. “I don’t think-,” she swallowed, _“coming_ is- is going to be a problem here.”

“Listen to _you,”_ he teased. “I wasn’t even talking about orgasms, but here you are, still thinking about it.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “You’re a terrible influence,” she mumbled, nipping his lip. 

Returning the kiss, he chased after her, leaning back down so their bodies were pressed together again. “Mm, and I will be for the rest of your life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we hope you enjoyed the fic! let us know what you liked the most!


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